


Something to remember me by

by elf_on_the_shelf



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: A lot of demons and angels all around because that's something I do apparently, All kinds of fraternising between Above and Below, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), BAMF Crowley (Good Omens), Eventual Romance, F/M, Fiends with benefits, Flashbacks from before the Fall, Gabe and Bee are not horrible wankers in this - I promise, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Just about everyone in this fic is a badass son of a bitch, Lots of innuendos because Crowley is being Crowley, M/M, Memory Loss, Multi, Other, People in Heaven are also rather shitty, People in Hell are being shits, The Dark Council (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:27:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 76,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22220305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elf_on_the_shelf/pseuds/elf_on_the_shelf
Summary: After the averted Apocalypse both Heaven and Hell try to find a scapegoat. And since the supernatural entities actually responsible for it couldn't be killed with either Holy Water or Hellfire, they have to turn to the next best thing. That means whoever they think was in charge of the whole debacle. So - not in so many words - that means Gabriel and Beelzebub.All of this happens while our favourite angelic and demonic duo act like all but a married couple and enjoy their retirement from their respective Headoffices.That is to say, until their two former bosses manage to anger both of Heaven and Hell to such an extent that they incite open rebellion in the ranks. Angels and demons alike will fight side by side to end all of this nonsense once and for all.You’ll get heavy use of backchannels, memories from before, tons of OC angels and the answer to the question: “could Crowley and Aziraphale ever escape office politics?” (the answer is no).
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Dagon (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 468
Kudos: 136





	1. Under pressure

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the lovely [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose) for beta-ing! And for coming up with the hilarious 'Fiends with benefits' tag - yup, went and put it right there in the tags :D
> 
> All of the chapter titles are going to be named after Queen's songs because I'm being that extra.
> 
> I'm not even sorry about the songs thing. I know this is a Bee/Gabe fic but the husbands will appear in it an awful lot. So here's to you, Crowley, my good sir.

Beelzebub was sprawled on a bench in St James and was staring absentmindedly at the lake. Every now and then they’d try skipping stones across it. More than half of those times they managed to hit a duck. _Maybe that was the plan all along._

The ducks in question, being by now very accustomed to demonic energy, took a longer time than necessary to actually swim away. Usually there would be bread and not pebbles thrown at them. Of course, they would be ducked – _hah_ – under every now and again but if that meant getting all of that free bread they were up for it. The pebbles though, they didn’t care for them that much.

Beelzebub continued to stare at the lake long after the last of the ducks was gone.

They had failed. Everything that they had been preparing for for millennia now had all been for nothing. They felt useless. Powerless. _A joke_.

And it wasn’t as if they were the only one who saw themself that way. They could hear the whispers and the comments around every corner back Downstairs. They were being judged. And quite harshly. So much so that they preferred staying up on Earth for the moment. They had a really bad feeling about something brewing just under the surface and – even if something bad brewing under the surface was something they should be happy about – they found themself rather scared. Dagon was the only one of the lot that they could trust. And even Dagon - on the few occasions when they got to communicate - instructed them to keep well away for the moment.

So they got a flat in London instead. Not that it much mattered anymore, but they did some research about which particular area would look more demonic. So they settled for Whitechapel. _Nothing screams more Hellish like the infamy of a serial killer_ , they thought.

It was on a small and dark alley and it was a rental with a very shitty lease. And it was the basement, of course. But it still seemed altogether human. _Too much so_.

The people upstairs – not _Upstairs_ upstairs – just the other tenants of the house had tried being friendly and inviting them over for supper. They had snapped at them and told them they were a literal demon and that they would be better left alone. They got a cheerful laugh out of that and a very giggly _‘Oh, you’_.

_Ha. Bloody. Ha._

They couldn’t even properly terrify meek mortals now. Fucking great. _What a time to be alive_.

They wanted to rip Crowley’s head off. It was all his fault.

They also wanted to actually be able to ask Crowley how in Satan’s name was he able to manage it. All those centuries. Alone up here. They felt like they were running mad. Not that Hell was much better. _It was Hell after all_. But at least it was something they had known for thousands of years. _It was familiar_.

But most of all, they wanted that son of a bitch Lucifer to snap out of his sulk and actually take their side in front of all those useless minions. They would be on the verge of a bloody revolution if he didn’t get his shit together.

It had been them two from the very beginning. They were the very first two. And it had been gut-wrenching and miserable and it had hurt. And they had held each other and sobbed as their wings burned to ashes. Then it had been Crowley - that complete fucker – _oh, they wanted to rip him apart limb by limb!_

They didn’t remember his name from before. They didn’t even remember their own. Only Lucifer held that favour, it seemed. _No matter_ , they thought bitterly. And now it was just themself. And they were feeling utterly and completely alone. _It wasn’t fair_. Not that many things had been fair back in Hell. _Hah, imagine that_.

They were contemplating making some mischief and fucking up the Tube during rush hour when they felt something electric whizz by. They raised their eyes in concern, Hellfire at the ready in the palm of their hand.

Whatever whizzed by was something in muted greys and smelled faintly like lavender. They growled. _Of course those shits Downstairs told the angels that they were residing on Earth now_. Had been for the last three months.

‘Bee!’ they could hear an annoying voice they knew all too well. _Well, not_ too _well, but well enough_.

‘What is it, Gabe?’ they snarled. Two could play at this game. _Address me with something insulting, you’ll get something insulting right back._

They lifted their eyes and looked at him.

He was clad in sweatpants and a jumper. It had tiny wings on it.

They couldn’t help a snort.

No matter the faith crisis. The incertitude. The fear. They had an angel in front of them that thought it a good idea to jog while donning clothes with little wings on them. They looked down at themself and their nondescript black-everything and also had a little chuckle. _Adhering to their sides, weren't they both doing that masterfully?_

‘Why are you doing that?’ he inquired, letting the ‘Gabe’ drop although it was obvious he didn’t much enjoy it.

‘Couldn’t help it, could you? Holier than though knobs.’

He looked confused.

‘The little angel wings. Perfect angels. Perfect servants of the Lord. Beautiful white wings you have. It would be a shame if you didn’t display them on everything you wore.’

He frowned.

‘I haven’t thought about it that much,’ he said as he snapped his fingers and the embroidered wings disappeared.

_That was odd._

‘What do you want, wank-wingzzz?’

This on the other hand felt safe. _Familiar_.

‘I guess I just wanted to ask you how you’re faring. With ten million demons upset with you.’

‘Fine and dandy. Can’t you see? That’s why I took this extensive vacation on Earth. Because I was doing so well I got a commendation out of it. It’s the little perks at the end of the month, you know,’ they commented, sarcasm dripping out of their every word.

Gabriel did the unthinkable and sat down on the park bench next to them. They hissed. _Well, more like buzzed_.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Um…talking to you, I guess?’

‘ _Why_?’

‘Dunno. Seemed the courteous thing to do.’

‘Go away, wank-wingzzz,’ they said as they crossed their arms over their chest and continued staring straight ahead at the lake.

He pondered this for a while.

‘You know what? No.’

This had them snap their head towards him with a growl.

‘Why the fuck not?’

He opened his mouth. Then shut it again. Then opened it again. Then cleared his throat.

‘Because this is all very boring. And you are a number of things, being a demon and all of that, but boring isn’t one of them.’

They looked him up and down and then up again, their eyes stopping on his hopeful expression and something stirred inside them.

_Okay, so this was going to be a problem._


	2. Doing All Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a Crowley and Aziraphale chapter because I fucked with them for a long (and I do mean long) while in my other fic and I just couldn't help wanting them bitches to be happy in this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose) for putting up with my midnight emails and inane ramblings, you have been an absolute sweetheart!

Crowley was leafing through a newspaper and commenting at random about whatever he thought slightly relevant every now and again.

Ever since the Ritz they’ve been together most of the days (and nights – but that was altogether private).

They were currently in the bookshop – as was often the case - and he was feeling rather bored.

‘Angel, what do you think about a holiday?’

‘A holiday? It’s not like we do an awful lot around here that we need to take an actual vacation from.’

‘Yeah, well. I was thinking the seaside.’

Aziraphale raised his eyes from his Tennyson and gave him a long and silent stare.

‘Alright, I’ll bite. What’s the temptation now?’

‘No temptation – well aside from getting you to the seaside, that is.’

Aziraphale huffed.

‘Just the weekend, I would never want to impose on the you-not-selling-anything-part of being a bookshop owner.’

This earned him a pout.

‘Okay, forget I said anything. Knew I’d never get you away from you precious books. Don’t even know why I bothered to begin with,’ Crowley threw his hands over his head and rolled his eyes melodramatically. And then he pulled out his phone and started playing Candy Crush for a full ten minutes before he put it down again.

Aziraphale was happy to return to his book now that Crowley apparently finished his temper tantrum, although, he had to admit the little sounds and pings were rather distracting.

‘Or we could just go back upstairs and shag.’

Aziraphale put down his book again with a sigh.

‘While I have to admit that sounds _particularly romantic_ , I am sort of in the middle of reading this.’

‘You’re being a bastard.’

‘And you’re being difficult. Fine, let’s go to the bloody seaside. Can I finish my book now?’

‘Wee bastard angels with newly added swearing options coming to a bookshop near you. Quite literally, if we’re thinking about last night -’

‘ _Crowley._ ’

‘ _Aziraphale_. Yeah, alright fine. I’ll just let you enjoy your fucking Tennyson – that pretentious depressive wanker. I have a trip to plan after all.’

With this he got up from the couch and wandered off to do whatever it was he was doing when he was not lazing around Aziraphale’s bookshop and being difficult about it.

Aziraphale turned back to his book but found his thoughts were vaguely drifting to that whole trip to the seaside. It sounded more and more lovely by the minute.

They could find a quiet corner on the beach and have a picnic. It was too cold for actual swimming but Aziraphale didn’t much mind. Seeing as he had never even owned a bathing suit in his life.

 _Oh, and they’d have champagne and cake and everything!_ It would be very nice.

Crowley was right. They had settled into this bubble of domesticity while none of them was trying to adapt to finally sharing the same space with someone after 6000 years of living alone. And they were very set in their ways, the both of them. Well, that needed to change or the small spats would continue and _wouldn’t it be quite something to finally be able to be together at last and to fall out because Aziraphale couldn’t put down his bloody book?_

The thing was they had spent almost each moment since the Apocalypse in Aziraphale’s back room. _Well, that wasn’t necessarily true_. They’d spent the first week in Aziraphale’s bedroom and - long story short - a new and more sturdy bed had been acquired at some point after that week. There were the occasional dinners, of course, and Crowley would always insist that Aziraphale took his reading with him upstairs in the evenings and then proceeded to coil around him in ways that the angel could swear no human anatomy would be able to accommodate.

But, other than that, they just sat around doing essentially nothing in the backroom of the shop. It was bound to get rather boring after a while. And they could be doing so many things now that they didn’t have to answer to their Headoffices anymore. They could travel. _Oh, they could go to Paris and eat crepes!_ Or to Venice. He hadn’t been there in ages and the last time he was there things hadn't been so pretty. They could go on a gondola ride. _Oh, that would be so romantic!_

Mind by now properly made up, he got up, dialled Crowley’s number on his antique phone, and called the demon.

‘Yes, angel?’

‘Darling, I’m afraid I’ve rather made a mess of things. I’m sorry for being so snappy earlier.’

‘Nah, it’s fine. Already forgot about it.’

‘It’s not fine, my dear. I was being horrible to you. Over such a small matter, no less. And after you proposed such a nice outing and all. I think I’m quite on-board with it now.’

‘Well that’s bloody good news since I paid half a fortune on renting a cottage and there’s no refund policy.’

‘I look forward to it.’

‘Angel, I hope you know I’d never stay mad at you over your fucking Tennysons.’

‘I know, dear. He _was_ a bit pretentious, wasn’t he?’

‘ _’A bit’_ is the understatement of the century. Going around taking all the credit for the Pre Raphaelites, the complete fucker. You know I did most of that stuff.’

‘I know, dear. With the hair and everything.’

‘Bloody wanker.’

‘Dear?’

‘Yes, angel?’

‘I thought this was about not fighting over Tennyson.’

‘You’re right. He’s still a wanker though. Dinner later? Pick you up at seven?’

‘That sounds wonderful. Where do you plan to take me?’

'On about every flat surface of that bookshop of yours.'

' _Crowley._ '

‘Fine, alright. I was thinking Savoy and then maybe take a walk in the park?’

‘That sounds lovely.’

‘Maybe try to pester the ducks while they’re sleeping.’

‘Not so lovely.’

‘I’m a demon. I’m not supposed to be -’

‘Crowley?’

‘Yes, angel?’

‘I love you to bits but please shut up about not being nice. I got the idea.’

‘Love you too but you don’t have to be so smug about it. Pick you up in an hour.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Crowley&Aziraphale being all but married vibes will follow you good people throughout all of this.


	3. I'm going slightly mad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's a Beelzie chapter. Enjoy all of the angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's gonna be a lot of OC demons all around, starting with the main six in the Dark Council.  
> Also, thanks [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose) for being a very understanding beta.

There was a long crack in the plaster that ran from one end of the room to the other and they were sure that thing over there was actual mould. And everything was bloody damp. _Oh, it was a very big improvement from actual Hell_ but it still reminded them of it in a lot of ways.

Beelzebub was staring at the ceiling and trying not to rip their wings apart to stave off all of that boredom. It was absolutely infuriating. And still, there was nothing they could do.

They had called Dagon earlier and they had learned that the Dark Council apparently had a beef with them for the moment. They were implying that it was because of their incompetence that those two actually managed to avert the End of Days and also blaming them for the disaster that had been Crowley’s trial. Dagon, being one of the few demons to always take their side, asked them how they would have gone about it instead. That earned them some very angry glares. They were just supposed to be there to record the meetings, not comment on company policy, _thank you very much._

They had feared this would happen since the beginning. _Well, near end_ , if it hadn’t been for that annoying child and those two. _Bratty little fucker_. Had realised they would be the scapegoat as soon as Crowley got out of that bloody bathtub unscathed. That’s why they were currently residing on Earth. They weren’t big on visiting Earth, the other demons. They hadn’t been either but they didn’t have too much of a choice.

So they had always suspected this would happen but now they had it confirmed. Discussed in a meeting and properly written down and stored in one of Dagon’s many file cabinets.

‘I really think you should prolong your leave of absence indefinitely,’ they had commented in the mouthpiece, voice no louder than a whisper. _Okay, so they were being wary of someone listening in on their conversation_. And apparently, since they were persona-non-grata for the moment, so would anyone who talked to them be.

‘I don’t want to cause you any trouble. If you think you’ll get in trouble over this I might as well hang up the -’

‘Nonsense!’ This was whispered quickly and with a certain sense of urgency. ‘I always like talking to you. And I can’t say I haven’t missed you around here. Hah, spend an eternity seeing someone every day, getting sick of the sight of them, and you’d never know you much you’ll miss the stupid fuckers once they decide on holidaying on Earth.’

Beelzebub couldn’t help a smile.

‘Good to see you’re as delightful as alwayzz.’

‘I aim to please. As I’m sure you’re well aware.’

‘Yeah. Could bloody do with some of that pleasing. This is actual living Hell, up here.’

‘It isn’t. _It really isn’t_. Gah, I hate the whole lot of them. I don’t know how much more I’m going to be able to put up with the fuckers. Where _is_ Lucifer anyway? He should be here and he should be instilling some of that demonic fear into them.’

‘I have no idea. I’d also like to find that son of a bitch so I can beat him to a pulp.’

‘D’you know what Asmodeous did after the last meeting?’

‘Surprizzze me.’

‘He cupped my bum. Like I was some bloody secretary and this was fucking Earth where that shit is still the norm.’

‘I hate him.’

‘Don’t we all?’

‘I suppose. So, are you alright?’

‘Yeah. Nearly bit his hand clean off. Fucking knob. I’m more concerned about Samael though. He had a shit eating grin throughout the whole meeting and you know he can be a hateful fucker.’

‘Well, aren’t all of them?’

‘Beelz, please, you know what I mean. Do be careful.’

‘I always am. And Dagon…’

‘Yeah?’

‘Please be careful as well.’

‘I’ll try. I have to go now. They’re listening to everything these days.’

‘Thank you for thizzz,’ Beelzebub murmured.

And then they sighed. Dagon had been the closest thing to what Beelzebub considered to be a friend over the years. Not that they considered having friends. _At all. Ever_. But they could always confide in them and they had this thing that they didn’t have with any of the other demons. Well maybe with Lucifer when he bothered to pull his head from up his arse and actually do something or attend the proper meetings. _Well, a bit more than that_. They didn’t fuck Lucifer. And they very much fucked Dagon. _Every now and again._

But other than them - who would they even get chummy with? Hastur and Ligur? Even the very thought made their skin crawl.

Crowley had always been a laugh but right now he didn’t figure on their list of demons they would spend time with, for fear of breaking his neck.

As for the other big ones from the actual Dark Council…they were bastards, the lot of them. _Well, they supposed it went with the job description_ , but they were being even more so than the job actually required.

It was comprised out of six demons, as well it should. Good number, six. _Well, bad_. So, the Dark Council went as follows: Murmur, Baal, Samael, Asmodeous, Marax and Astaroth. They were all complete sons of bitches and they hated the lot of them.

The fact that they were all male presenting fuelled their anger even more. _Sexist pigs_. Not that either angels or demons had much need for sex or gender to begin with. _It was just the principle of the thing_. They had never gotten along ever since they had been named Hell’s Judge, Jury and Executioner by none other than Lucifer himself to their obvious dissatisfaction. And now they guessed they had to pay for that since fucking Lucifer was nowhere to be found and they held all the power in their greedy little hands.

_Fan-fucking-tastic!_

Asmodeus was being a perverted cunt. Baal had wide delusions of grandeur that severely surpassed his intellect. Marax had always seen himself as lord and master. Astaroth always thought he was right in most things. Murmur drew way, way too much pleasure from the torments. It was Samael though they feared. They could never guess what went on in that head of his. _No one could_. And it always pays to be just a little bit wary of the unknown.

They looked at the mouldy ceiling some more and started preening their wings that they had so destructively wanted to rip apart earlier. They were as dark as a moonless night but they were kept in perfect condition. It was the last part of them that they retained from Before. They’d spend hours on end making sure they were in perfect condition.

They combed their fingers through them and they sobbed.

They were supposed to be white. _Why weren’t they white anymore?_

They had no place among the others – all vile and despicable and completely heartless. They nearly threw a fit when they first saw them torturing Cain. Almost wanted to retch when that whole absolute shitshow that was Sodom and Gomorrah went down. They only got weird looks and thinly veiled threats on both occasions. So they reeled it all in. And tried playing it as being aloof instead. It takes a while to perfect the art of looking utterly bored when you are all but screaming your head off on the inside but they did have more than sixty centuries to perfect it. They still didn’t understand why exactly they had been cursed to spend all of eternity among the other demons. They only had faint glimpses from Before. Here only for a moment and gone the next. _Almost like a dream._ And whenever they would think about it they would feel the immense pain of a great loss. _God’s love_ , they surmised. _But God didn’t seem all that loving_. Not in their books. And in all of those vague traces of memories, no matter how hard they searched and searched, they couldn’t find anything that would make them think they had been particularly evil. They had questioned, _of course they had_ \- since there was so much to question about. _But was it such a crime as to warrant this much hurt?_

They fished in the inside pocket of their waistcoat and pulled out a white feather. It was pristine. It even shone slightly. They remembered having it from the very beginning. As they were clutching to Lucifer and crying their eyes out, their hand would hold this feather in a death grip. They had no idea why. Maybe it was the only thing that linked them to before. The only evidence that they had been an angel once. They didn’t remember their name. They didn’t remember what they did in order for them to Fall. But they did know the feather was important. _Invaluable_. Their most prized possession. It was the only evidence that they had been an angel once.

They had no idea why that feather didn’t burn as well. Why it wasn’t tainted like the rest of them. Why it sometimes shone and brought them immense joy in the deepest pits of Hell. They didn’t want to be an angel once more – they saw what they could do, and frankly, they were as bad as the lot Downstairs. But they had always regretted their Fall. _Maybe they had no place on either of the sides_. Maybe they were not suited for either of them. So they looked at the feather and they wept.

They oftentimes took it out of their pocket when they were by themself and stroked it affectionately. It always managed to soothe them and calm their spirits. But they wouldn’t be caught dead doing that by any of the other demons. That showed signs of weakness and of regretting the Fall. And even if they regretted it with every fibre of their being, they never wanted the other demons to see that. Demons could be quite judgemental in that respect.

Whenever they stroked the feather though they felt at peace. Calm. Serene. _So why were they crying now?_

They had very few moments when they could feel like that in Hell. They had often wondered why that particular feather of theirs was still white while the others were pitch black. On the other hand it radiated warmth and they could almost feel being protected by a cocoon of white feathers.

They stroked the feather some more until they felt relaxed enough not to bite their fist and scream in frustration. And then they went to sleep. And they slept for a full week.


	4. Seaside Rendezvous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at it with the Husbands this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry about the long wait. It stemmed from a combination of really long work hours and complete writer's block (and posting insane amounts of content on the other fic, if we're being honest here). Hopefully the next couple of chapters will be updated sooner.

Crowley blasted his horn for what felt like ages and there was still no sign of the angel. 

‘Fuck’s sake’, he swore under his breath and got out of the car, traversing the few steps from where he "parked" the Bentley and snapping his fingers to open the door to the bookshop.

‘Angel, what the devil are you playing at? We were supposed to be off an hour ago.’

‘I won’t be long, dear. Five minutes, tops,’ he could hear from the small kitchenette.

He knew damn well what that meant so he went to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of Scotch.

More than half an hour and three more glasses of Scotch later he had just about enough so he climbed up the stairs and went to see what in Satan’s name was keeping Aziraphale so long.

The angel was fretting over a picnic basket that looked so quaint with its chequered red and white pattern that apparently matched the blanket neatly folded next to it that Crowley couldn’t help but groan. It looked like something out of a commercial. Well, he supposed he should have guessed as much.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Well, dear boy, I wanted to prepare the perfect picnic.’

‘You do realise they have shops in the countryside as well?’

‘Yes but they don’t have the ’89 St Emillion at the shops in the countryside. And I still have half a dozen bottles so I thought we’d pack some. And that wonderful bottle of Krug you got for me. I thought this little trip calls for a celebration so I packed that as well.’

‘Admit it, you just want to get me drunk and have your way with me.’

‘Don’t I always? But I promise, it’s going to be a very elegant affair.’

‘It’s always elegant with you, angel. Still doesn’t explain why it took you an hour and a half to pack three bottles of wine and a champagne.’

‘Well, I made cucumber sandwiches and packed a cheese plate and you know that foie gras I was ranting about the other day? Oh and some lovely pastries from that nice bakery down the road and -’

‘Let me guess – they don’t fit in the basket.’

‘No, they don’t,’ Aziraphale huffed in a very irritated manner. ‘I’ve been trying to rearrange them more than ten times.’

Crowley sighed and miracled a second basket into existence and half of the things Aziraphale listed inside of second said basket.

‘Can we go now?’

‘That’s very ingenious, my dear. Should have thought about that sooner.’

‘Well, I know how you are in regards to frivolous miracles, so no harm done. I have no qualms about them, on the other hand. So can we just _go_ already?’

‘Oh yes, do lead the way.’

Crowley took a hold of both baskets despite Aziraphale fretting that he should carry some of the load and headed for the car. 

Bookshop locked behind them and baskets safely deposited in the boot of the Bentley, they set off towards the seaside at the usual ungodly speed that Crowley was used to. He only got a short grumble from Aziraphale so he considered that a win.

It would take any normal person about two hours to get to the South Downs, so of course it took Crowley a little bit over an hour. They were already parked and signing off on things while being instructed about which key went where and how to use the appliances by the time they got to the one hour and 10 minutes mark. Then the landlady left them to their own devices. She seemed like a quaint old lady. Aziraphale commented on it. Crowley mumbled something about not giving a rat’s arse and _‘please, angel, let’s just get to the fucking beach already, we’ve wasted half a day as it is’._

It was a short walk to the beach, mainly due to the fact that they took what Crowley deemed to be a shortcut and Aziraphale deemed altogether unfit as they ambled through the tall grass like savages. _Oh, and his trousers will be completely ruined_. Crowley fought very hard to hold back a comment about ruining the angel’s trousers in a different manner altogether but succeeded in the end.

Once on the beach they realised that it was far too crowded for their tastes (i.e. there were about twenty people about) and that they would have never predicted such a wide turn-out since it was bloody freezing to begin with. _For the humans, at least_.

So they spent almost a full half hour ambling about looking for a more private corner. Neither of them wanted to do something particularly untoward – well, not on the beach, at least - but they didn’t want questioning eyes on them either. And Aziraphale very much wanted for Crowley to be able to put down his sunglasses. Which would have been a huge no no if any humans were there to see him.

He did comment about sand getting into his brogues though. _Of course he did_.

‘Maybe think of wearing boots next time,’ Crowley pointed down to his as he adjusted the chequered blanket. He felt like he was in a bloody commercial. But he didn’t comment on it. If the angel liked it then that was okay.

Said angel wiggled happily and sat down on the blanket in a very prim fashion.

‘Do pass those cucumber sandwiches.’

Crowley did better and passed some newly miracled chocolate-covered strawberries instead.

‘Oh _my_!’ 

‘Indeed,’ Crowley drawled as he watched Airaphale enjoy his treat.

‘Now how about that Krug?’

Crowley smiled widely at the mention of alcohol. He always would. _Big fan of alcohol, him._

He fished around in the basket and came back with a perfectly chilled bottle of champagne. Some minor demonic influence had been involved.

‘What are we celebrating, angel?’ he asked as he popped the cork and started pouring the drink into equally demonically influenced champagne flutes. 

‘Well all of this, I guess,’ Aziraphale waved his hand about. ‘Getting to go on this small holiday. Getting to spend a day at the beach. Together. Without a care in the world. Getting to be together at all in the first place. Just us.’

Crowley extended a flute to him and while Aziraphale gladly took it with one hand he grabbed Crowley’s own with his other hand and gently kissed his palm.

‘I love you, darling. And I am so happy that I get to spend the rest of eternity with you.’

‘Same, angel,’ Crowley moved a bit closer so that he was kneeling in front of Aziraphale and cupped his cheek. ‘Even if I don’t say it enough.’

‘What do you mean? You tell me you love three times a day.’

‘Like I was saying, not nearly enough.’

‘You’re an old sap, you.’

‘Oldest there is,’ he smiled smugly and leaned in to kiss Aziraphale. ‘But so are you.’

‘Not on the beach, dear. People might see us.’

‘ _So_? Let them. I could yell about how much I love you from the mountaintops and it wouldn’t be enough. If I could I would storm Heaven with banners and informative flyers. I would shout about it in Gabe’s stupid face, knowing that he hasn’t and will never in a million years understand what love is. I would even chance having my way with you on Beelzebub’s desk. See how they feel about that. I’ll clean all of that Hellish grime first obviously, I know how you feel about your clothes,’ he added as he saw the angel’s expression. 

‘Oh, _Crowley_ ,’ Aziraphale said as he hugged him tightly. ‘I can’t believe it took me until the near End of the World to tell you how I feel. I really can’t forgive myself for that,’ he added and his voice broke slightly.

‘We’ll have none of that, angel. We’re going at your own pace here. Will always do. It could have taken you another six thousand years and I wouldn’t complain. I’d wait patiently for you. _Always_.’

‘That’s the whole point! I made us both wait so long, and for what? We could have had this _ages_ ago!’

‘We have this now. Stop beating yourself up about it and enjoy the seaside outing. You said you packed some foie gras?’

Aziraphale let him go and looked towards the basket. 

‘I did. But then you came up with those lovely strawberries and it’s just not proper to eat the appetiser after the dessert.’

‘Fuck proper. If you would be at all proper you wouldn’t sing a demon praises each and every night. Live a little. Give in. Relax. This is what this whole outing was about. That and making sure you stop reading that old fart Tennyson.’

‘I can’t believe I’m barring my soul here and talking about us and everything and you’re still on about bloody Tennyson!’

‘Angel! You swore!’

‘I most definitely did not!’

‘You did! Oh God, angel, I love you so fucking much! Especially when you let that bastard streak show a little. I’ll prove it to you when we get back to the cottage too,’ Crowley wiggled his eyebrows at him.

‘I really don’t understand why you would spoil such a nice outing arguing about Tennyson, that's all I'm saying.’

‘Who do you want to argue about then, angel. Is it darling Oscar?’

‘No. That’s a can of worms that I don’t particularly want to open.’

‘Or maybe Byron?’

‘No, Crowley.’

‘Oooo, Milton then? Laughed my arse off when I read that. I simply _knew_ that had to be one of your doings.’

Aziraphale cleared his throat. Alright, so maybe – _just maybe_ \- he had had more than enough bottles of wine at the time. And had ranted quite a lot about Heaven. And Hell. And a certain demon. But if memory served him right Milton had some other things on his mind that were definitely not Heavenly. Possibly a bit Hellish. But actually – _more than anything else_ – rather human. Byron had tried to literally corner him and then kiss him. _Oh, no no. Places to be and the like_. Oscar had all but tried to have his way with him at that awful woman’s party. He strung Aziraphale away from the main hall and they went to inspect the library. _To discuss literature_ , Aziraphale thought at the time and he was quite fond of the fellow and his works so he happily went along. And then the man had locked the door and had started undressing. _Oh no_. It wasn’t even that Aziraphale didn’t want to think about sex. He thought about it constantly. It was just that those thoughts always included a certain demon.

He understood it for what it was. _Crowley was jealous._

He didn’t get the Tennyson bit though. Tennyson never did anything untoward. Frankly it would have been rather disgusting. Especially in his latter years. Smelly Tenny – as everyone referred to him.

‘Crowley, my dear,’ he said as he hooked his fingers around whatever Crowley deemed to call that ridiculous thing around his neck that he kept insisting was a tie. ‘Screw Tennyson.’

‘Sorry, angel. But not screwing him was rather the point.’

‘Shut up and take me home.’

And that Crowley did, picnic by now long forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose) for being a wonderful beta and wonderful in general, I suppose.


	5. Don't try so hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bee and Gabe discuss the big elephant in the room - i.e. their sides ganging up on them.

Beelzebub thought long and hard about what they should be doing up here to occupy their time. After examining the mortals for a while they decided that alcoholism seemed intriguing.

So they were sitting, yet again, on a park bench in St James, but this time they were sipping form a bottle of cheap whisky. More like pouring insane amounts of it down their throat, but there you had it.

A lot of people were giving them funny looks. It was the middle of the day and a lot of families walked the pathways of the park so they supposed there was that. At some point a police officer came by and told them they shouldn’t be drinking in a public park. They snapped their fingers and the officer found himself suddenly in the middle of Devonshire without having any clue on how he got there.

They had noted some ill wanted presences at bay. Well, not _noted_ noted. More like perceived them at the back of her mind. Both angels and demons had a different, more complex grasp on their perception of reality, so they would know when something was wrong even if they couldn’t see it or hear it. They felt watched. And in danger. And ever since their last conversation with Dagon they apparently had every right to feel so. So maybe they had put them under close observation or maybe their mind was just imagining things. All they knew was that they felt ill at ease each and every moment of the fucking day. They downed more of the whisky.

‘Oh, hey there. Huh. We seem to run into each other a lot.’

They closed their eyes in frustration and they groaned.

‘What the Heavens do you want, Gabe?’

‘I don’t know. I guess it’s just very boring sitting around, doing nothing. I mean, the running helps,’ he said.

They opened their eyes, and sure enough, he was wearing his running gear yet again. It didn’t have the small wings on it this time.

‘Why not just go back home then?’

‘Well, why don’t _you_?’

They took another healthy swig out of the bottle before answering.

‘I really don’t think you get what Hell can be like after they fault you for singlehandedly failing with the Apocalypse business.’

‘And you think Heaven is much better?’

‘Shouldn’t it? It _is_ Heaven after all.’

‘Well, It’s just as bad. Michael told me it’s best to stay away for the moment. They’re all rather angry at me right now. Can’t imagine why.’

‘Huh. Maybe because we both tried to make those two traitors pay the price and failed miserably?’

‘How am I at fault for that?’

‘You are rather dense, aren’t you?’

‘There’s no need to be rude!’

Beelzebub snorted.

‘There’s every reason to be rude, Gabe. You were the one who suggested it to me in the first place. I don’t know what happened Upstairs but down under I gathered thousands of demons to watch the trial and then nothing happened to the fucker. Can you imagine the revolts?’

He cringed, visibly.

‘Why the fuck did I get strung along in a trial that didn’t ruin his reputation but completely fucked up mine, I still have no idea. I hold you entirely responsible for that.’

‘Bee…’

‘Stop calling me that, you wanker!’

‘Look, I’m sorry! I though it would sort all of our problems, otherwise I wouldn’t have suggested it. It was Michael that...never mind. Heaven seemed quite pleased with it at first until it wasn’t anymore. I think I’ve been played. And you as well. And I’m not even talking about those two. You know how everyone wants to find some scapegoats?’

‘Yeah, like we found them?’

‘They were entirely responsible!’

‘Shut up, even you don’t believe that! They did jack shit. It was all about that small brat. And Lucifer is nowhere to be found. So we did exactly what the others are doing now. Oooh, let’s sacrifice these two because then we’ll have our hands clean. I really did expect more from Heaven, but I guess I was wrong.’

‘Bee…’

‘Stop fucking calling me that!’

‘I…well…I don’t know what to tell you.’

‘How about you shut up then and leave me be.’

‘I’m sorry if what I convinced you to do made you get in trouble. It really wasn’t my intention. All I ever wanted was for justice to be served.’

They snorted again.

‘Oh, it will, Gabe, it will. I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.’

‘You don’t mean…’

‘Yeah, I have the whole of the Dark Council literally begging for my head.’

‘I…well…’ he sat down on the bench next to them and gently squeezed their shoulder. They flinched. They wasn’t very accustomed with touch. Other than fucking Dagon in dark hallways every now and again, whenever another demon touched you it wasn’t at all pleasant. It would usually end up in torn limbs, scars, burns and the like. There was something vaguely comforting about this though so they fought back the impulse to rip his arm clean off.

‘I’m really sorry. And if I could go back and do it all again, I’d never suggest something that would put you in this position, no matter what Michael says. We would of course still try to punish Aziraphale. I mean, angels consorting with demons…’

Beelzebub tilted their head to the side and looked very pointedly at the hand that was still on their shoulder.

‘About that,’ they said as the hint of a smirk started playing on their lips.

He looked at them puzzled for a bit and then followed their gaze to the offending hand and quickly drew back.

‘Right. Well, this isn’t like that.’

‘Like what exactly?’

‘Like, you know, whatever it is they’re doing,’ he said as he inspected his fingernails for a bit. Then he cleared his throat and started inspecting the trees. _Very interesting looking trees_.

Beelzebub felt, for the first time in a long while, like they could enjoy their time spent on Earth. Very _very_ much, judging by the pained and very obviously flustered expression on the angel’s face. _They could have a lot of fun with that_.

‘I haven’t the faintest. Paint me a picture, why don’t you?’

They were fighting very hard not to grin from ear to ear. If they were to shish kebab them in the end anyways then at least they could spend their last days making an archangel as uncomfortable as anything. _Proper demon behaviour, that._

‘Well, I mean…you know what I mean, don’t make me spell it out.’

‘Getting to meet up in St James?’

‘No, not that.’

‘Changing valuable information about Above and Below?’

‘Not that either. Look, there’s no need to be difficult, Bee.’

They hissed at him. _Well, buzzed._

‘Fine. Like the sinful ways. Hell should know all about that.’

He was very pointedly avoiding their gaze.

‘Oh, you mean fucking?’

He cleared his throat some more. No other reply presented itself.

‘I didn’t know angels fucked,’ they said casually. They were by now properly smirking as they turned towards Gabriel completely and they placed an elbow on the backrest of the bench and a leg onto the seat, bent at the knee.

‘Well, not as a rule of thumb.’

‘But you could, if you wanted?’

There was a long silence. He still tried looking at everything but them.

‘Why are we having this conversation?’ he managed eventually.

‘Since everything is rather boring and I seem to be a number of things but boring isn’t one of them, as someone pointed out a while ago,’ they gave him the most devilish smile they could come up with.

He was staring at them by this point and _was that a gulp they had witnessed?_

‘Well, you aren’t. Boring that is.’

‘So, could you? If you wanted?’

‘Um, yeah, I suppose.’

‘Interesting. Very _very_ interesting,’ they said as they measured him up, head to toes. He really wasn’t half bad. And corrupting angels did seem like a thing that their lot would enjoy. _Not that they could give a rat’s arse about what the other demons enjoyed at the moment_. Could give it a try later if they so fancied. They quite liked the sex and seeing as Dagon wasn’t around…

 _Would Dagon mind an awful lot?_ No matter. They were a demon. They shouldn’t concern themself with what other demons minded or not.

But for now they just wanted to keep on drinking.

‘Here you go,’ they said as they extended the bottle of whisky to Gabriel.

‘What’s this?’

‘It’s booze. It’s not awfully nice but that’s not the point of it.’

He took a swig and then made a face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose) for everything - from late night discussions to fic ideas to being an absolute sweetheart!
> 
> Go and give her works a read - they are absolutely lovely. I'm just going to tag the one for the moment - [A Christmas Carol Service](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21748195/chapters/51885319)


	6. I was born to love you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Ineffable Husbands content -this is going to follow you people around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The seaside holiday saga continues.

Aziraphale woke up in a daze. He wasn’t very accustomed to sleeping so, whenever he would wake up, he would be very confused about his current whereabouts or the particular time of day. He glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 1:30 pm. They had lost nearly half a day. He looked down at Crowley who was all but sprawled over the angel and he continued to look at him for what seemed like hours. _What had he gone and done to earn the Almighty’s blessing and get to have this_ , he still had no idea. He placed a kiss on Crowley’s forehead and heard him stir ever so slightly. Then he started combing his fingers through his hair. It was longer now and it curled wonderfully.

***

_‘I quite liked you when you wore your hair long,’ he had confessed almost three months ago while they were in a similar enough setting._

_‘That implies that you like me less now.’_

_‘Nonsense, dear. I like you in all the forms and all the ways you choose to present yourself. You’re beautiful.’_

_‘Shut it, angel.’_

_‘I mean it. Kind and nice and considerate and absolutely gorgeous. And if you’re going to hiss at me right now, I swear I’m going to throw a fit.’_

_Crowley was on the verge of hissing angrily but stopped himself at the last minute._

_‘I’ll grow it out, then,’ he said instead. ‘If you love it so much.’_

_‘Mhm. Could prove a good thing to grab on to.’_

_Crowley gasped. He really wasn’t accustomed to the angel being so brash. That was quite some time ago. Nowadays he knew the angel to be both a bastard and an utter hedonist so remarks like those no longer shocked him._

***

It went just underneath his chin but at the moment it was spread all over the place, a mass of crimson curls. Aziraphale stroked it some more and went against his better judgement that screamed at him to just spend the day in bed and he gently shook Crowley awake. They were on vacation, after all. Crowley had wanted them to do this. To try something different. Lazy days spent in bed – those they could have back at the bookshop as many times as they wanted. They have been doing a lot of that actually, following the Apocalypse that wasn’t.

***

 _He had fallen asleep for the first time in the last 2000 years. Now why did he go and do that? He willed his eyes open and searched the room for possible explanations._

_The explanation was sprawled all over him snoring lightly with his cheek pressed over Aziraphale’s heart._

Oh, right. That. 

_Aziraphale could practically feel the blush colouring his cheeks. But it didn’t matter. Not when they were finally here._

_As he looked at Crowley lovingly, he could remember everything that had happened last night in painstaking detail._

_They had drunk a lot, and that is to say a LOT of champagne at the Ritz. And then they went back to the bookshop and continued to drink some more. A lot more._

_It was probably around 4am when Crowley – who was now lounging on the floor –_ why exactly was he doing that? Oh, right. _He had fallen off the couch while recounting a most probably fake, or, if not that, a severely altered story about one of his exploits. He had brushed it off as if being on purpose so he was now laying on the floor, looking at the ceiling and smiling widely. Aziraphale wanted to kiss him._

_Crowley turned his head to the side and his eyes were locked on his._

_‘Angel - hic - I’ll ‘ave ya know thisss's the best night of my life. An since we’re so sloshed tha’ you’ll prob…proba...probly forget it come t’morrow I’mma let ya in on a lil ssssecret.’_

_‘Hmm?’ was the only thing Aziraphale could come up with as he was concentrating on pouring himself another glass without spilling the whole bottle. It proved to be very difficult._

_‘I love ya - hic - angel!’_

_Aziraphale must have been very drunk in order to start imagining things like this._

_‘What was that, dear?’_

_‘I said I love ya, are ya deaf or sumthin’?’_

_Out of all the love declarations throughout history it wasn’t the most romantic one. Or the most eloquent. Or a lot of other things. Aziraphale didn’t give a shit._

_With a snap of his fingers he was completely sober._

_He got up from his chair and approached Crowley, extending a hand to him._

_Crowley looked at the hand confused. Then he gripped it and shook it._

_Aziraphale rolled his eyes. Then he pulled Crowley up so that they were face to face._

_‘I need you to sober up, Crowley.’_

_‘Why would I do tha? Then we’ll get back to bein’ all formal an’ whatever. Feed the ducks maybe every year or so. Go fo’ drinksssssssss an’ all that nonsense. At least if I’m drunk I can be honessst.’_

_He threw Aziraphale a pleading look and leaned in to press a small kiss on the corner of his mouth._

_‘Crowley, sober up this instant!’_

_He drew back briskly as if being slapped and swayed a bit in place until he gave in with a sigh. He snapped his fingers and he was completely sober as well._

_His mind caught up slowly to what he had said and done in the past five minutes and a look of complete horror passed over his face. He tried reaching out to grab Aziraphale’s hands and to draw back as far as possible, both at the same time, which resulted in him looking very drunk still._

_‘Aziraphale, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. I was drunk, I didn’t mean it. Please angel, please forgive me! I can’t go the next couple of hundred years without seeing you.’ He clamped a hand over his mouth at the implications of his latest sentence and quietly muttered to himself ‘Fuck! Why are you like this?’_

_Aziraphale came closer and started stroking one of his shoulders. Crowley couldn’t look up for fear of what he’d see in those baby blue eyes. Pity. It would most definitely be pity. Or maybe disgust? Or iciness. Either way, he wouldn’t be able to bear it._

_‘I’ll never mention it again, angel, I promise, but please…’_

_He trailed off as Aziraphale gently lifted his chin up so he could look him in the eye. Crowley closed his eyes, still not able to bear whatever it was he was going to see._

_‘Crowley. Look at me.’_

_He fought it back. He really did. But he was not able to resist the angel anything so he drew in a deep breath and braced himself for what would be the single most painful moment of his life, Fall from grace included._

_He opened his eyes to see the angel smile at him so widely as if he hung the stars themselves. Well, he supposed he did do that. The look on the angel’s face screamed pure adoration._

_This was not how this was supposed to go at all. Sure, it went like that in all of his drunken dreams but this was reality._

_‘Crowley,’ the angel said while cupping his cheeks with both his palms, ‘I love you too, my dear. Have loved you for such a long time.’_

_Crowley’s knees had almost given in._

_They did give in completely two seconds later when Aziraphale pushed him against the nearest wall and kissed him._

***

Back in the present day Aziraphale shook Crowley some more until he grumbled some unintelligible expletives and placed his chin on Aziraphale’s chest, bleary eyes fixed on the angel.

Aziraphale was beaming at him.

‘What the actual Hell has you so chipper so early in the morning?’

Aziraphale fought back the urge to tell him that half past one was definitely neither early, nor morning.

‘I was just thinking about you confessing your love to me that first time.’

‘An embarrassment I try to remedy every day. I love you, angel.’

‘I thought it was part of the charm, really. Very you.’

‘Drunkenly asking you if you were deaf. Very me, indeed. Thanksss for the compliment.’

‘Don’t be cheeky. Come on, we can’t sit in bed all day. Let’s go exploring.’

Crowley wanted to protest that they could and should stay in bed all day but then the whole purpose of the short trip would be rendered rather futile.

He snapped his fingers and was fully clothed. Aziraphale had not been very surprised to find out, after their first night together – well, week, more like – that that was how the demon managed to get those impossibly tight jeans on. He always expected it was via demonic miracle since no other explanation would have been humanly possible. Aziraphale got dressed the normal human way since he quite enjoyed his little rituals. Instead of his usual waistcoat he wore a soft beige cardigan that had been a gift from Crowley. He had actually received quite a number of sweaters and cardigans in various shades of cream and light blues as the demon had explained that for all the love that Aziraphale had for his ancient waistcoat those buttons on it would get in the way of proper cuddling and Aziraphale simply couldn’t have that.

He then sat down on the edge of the bed and waited patiently for Crowley to come out of the bathroom where he was doing God knew what to his hair. It would always take hours, or it would seem like hours to the angel, anyway. Crowley also had his own little rituals and making sure his hair was absolutely perfect was definitely one of them as Aziraphale had found out in the last months. _Should have guessed, honestly_ , what with him always going by the latest fashion when haircuts were concerned.

‘Ready, angel?’

‘Have been for the last fifteen minutes.’

‘Bastard,’ Crowley smiled at him as he offered his hand.

‘Where to?’

***

They ended up in Brighton and had a lovely late lunch at a corner-street café where they had one of the best fish-and-chips that Crowley had ever tasted. And he didn’t even like food. And then they sat through that complete horror that the puppet-show on the beach was – or at least he did, Aziraphale seemed to enjoy it. They were now just wandering on the promenade and Crowley stopped to get them both some ice cream that he had seen the angel eye wistfully but pretended not to.

‘The things you get me to do for you, angel.’

‘What do you possibly mean?’ Aziraphale asked, confused, as he took his cone from Crowley’s hand. It was chocolate and salted caramel. _Crowley knew him so well_. He couldn’t help but smile happily.

‘Punch and Judy? _Really?_ You’d think that would be more my lot’s thing.’

‘You don’t have a lot anymore, dearest,’ he flashed Crowley a wide grin slightly paraphrasing Crowley’s own words on the day that the Earth didn’t end. ‘It’s just us now.’

‘Mhm,’ the demon agreed slightly flushed. He didn’t want to give in so easily though so he soldiered on. ‘What can you possibly like about that? The puppets are horrible. The humour is debatable, at best, and they just smack each other over the head as comic relief. Not to mention they do that in front of kids. I just can’t see the appeal.’

‘It’s traditional.’

‘So are arranged marriages.’

Aziraphale pouted.

‘You’re being difficult again.’

‘Look, I sat through the whole thing. Barely commented, even.’

‘You commented more than fifty times!’

‘Like I said, barely.’

‘Why are you like this?’

‘’M a demon, Aziraphale, what else did you expect?’

‘Is this a rehash of “I’m never nice”? Cause I could do without that, especially on a holiday.’

‘Fine, whatever, I’ll make it up to you. Whatever you want to do next.’

Aziraphale beamed as he eyed one of the many carousels.

‘No.’

‘You said whatever I wanted.’

‘Never thought you’d be that much of a bastard. _Huh_. Should have presumed, so this one is on me. Still no, though.’

‘But it looks like such fun!’

Crowley rolled his eyes. Rolled his whole head only to make sure the angel caught up on the gesture since the eye rolling was not very effective behind sunglasses.

‘I’m not going to ride a shiny and colorful plastic horse, angel and that’s the end of that.’

‘But you said…’

‘You can go along if you want. I can wait for you.’

That phrase had them both stare at each other for a while.

‘Better not. We can do something else,’ Aziraphale said as he avoided Crowley’s gaze.

‘Oooh! We can go to an arcade.’

‘Whatever for?’

‘They have amazing games. Oh, and I can win some adorable plush toy for you if I wanted. And I really, really do.’

***

‘No need to act so smug!’

‘I did win us the big teddy bear.’

‘I could have done that, at any point. Remember this was my idea, after all.’

‘But you didn’t. And we’re not talking miracles over here. Admit it. I’m better at this then you are.’

‘Mmm.’

‘Let’s get dinner, my dear. We can debate some more about what any of us did over some Shepard’s Pie.’

‘I would have won that plushie eventually.’

‘Of course you would have,’ Aziraphale said as he leaned in and kissed his cheek.

‘Now you’re just adding insult to injury, angel.’

‘I am a bit, aren’t I?’

Crowley nodded furiously.


	7. Killer Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Beelzie acts like a proper temptation demon. And two more characters get introduced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And in which Gabriel sort of bluescreens a lot.

They were sick and tired of feeling sorry for themself. Demons didn’t do that. _Well, they very much did that_ , but never told other demons about it. Feeling sorry for themselves was something that occurred on a daily basis back in Hell. _Still._ There’s only so many hours that you can spend looking at a cracked ceiling. They thought they’d have some fun instead. They'd never had any proper fun since…maybe the crusades? It wasn’t even about all of that innocent blood being spilled. _Well, it had been for the other demons_. For them it was all about the mass hallucination that the Christians seemed to share. About them doing the right thing. That had been to die for. Especially later since they arrived on their domain and were very surprised to find out that ‘ _oops_ ’ they weren’t quite that right, after all. So they forced themself up from their bed while a rather wily thought started forming at the back of their mind. They shrugged off the ever so loose and slightly ripped apart at the seems hoodie that they had come to love and cherish and they slipped in their usual Hellish clothes. _Not for long though_ , they pondered.

***

Beelzebub was eyeing the tailor’s shop with a slightly raised eyebrow and took a final drag of their cigarette only to crush it under their heel on the sidewalk. _Littering was demonic, right?_

Out of all the human vices they had experienced so far they had taken quite a liking to alcoholism that first time. Gluttony was also good, especially if it was insane amounts of sugary stuff that had seen more of the inside of a chemist’s lab than any natural ingredients. _Smoking was also okay_ , they guessed. And now, they thought they’d experience another one. So they had to make sure they’d be dressed to the nines.

They had never given any particular attention to the way they dressed back in Hell. There was no need. But they thought they’d take a page from Crowley’s book and actually invest some effort and money if they wanted this to go the way they did. And since money was not an issue and the effort meant actually doing something instead of staring at the crack in their ceiling, then they were more than up for it.

They knew how much Gabriel enjoyed his perfectly tailored suits. And, they knew that if they would miracle any of those on, it wouldn’t have the same effect on that vain knob.

They drew a deep breath and stepped inside.

The people in the store threw them a weird look. They looked at the mannequins on display and the pristine cut of all of those suits and then back at whatever it was that they had come up with in terms of clothing and rolled their eyes.

One of them was going to politely ask them to leave just as they placed a very thick wad of cash on the registry. They all stared at them with a doubtful expression and then stared at the money. For quite a long time.

‘Now that we got that over with,’ Beelzebub intoned as they crossed her arms, I’d like to buy some suits.’

No one even thought about asking them to leave anymore.

Two hours and four glasses of brandy later (they were one of the most exclusive tailors in London so, of course they would cater to their clients’ every whim) they walked out the door with a pleased smirk on their face and a promise to return in a week’s time.

_‘So, does our esteemed customer have any specific requests?’_

_‘Alcohol, to be honest.’_

_‘Of course.’_

_They didn’t have the precise brand they mentioned, so Liz, the cashier, was given two hundred pounds from the large stack –_ and it was a large stack, was it not? _And she was told to be on her merry way. ‘I think they have it in the Sainsbury's on the corner. If not, I dunno, just get it somehow!’_

They perused maybe a hundred catalogues and in the end chose maybe some 10 odd models. All black. All form fitting and all with a neckline that was not exactly PG13. They didn’t much cater to women and it was obvious they were going for a feminine approach, their cuts being rather masculine but, even as he took they measurements, Ian thought they would all fit them like a glove. Their small build and androgynous look would make his creations properly shine. He was a bit miffed when they dismissed his suggestion of pairing one of the suits with heels.

_‘Nah, I’ll be wearing boots.’_

_‘Oh but that would throw off the whole aesthetic -’_

_‘Shush.’_

_He found himself instantly silent for reasons he didn’t understand._ That had been rather rude, hadn’t it? _But that wad of cash was very very thick._

_‘You know what would work well with this whole ensemble?’ he desperately tried some more, his creative impulses getting the better of him despite being shut down._

_‘Hmm?’_

_‘A bob.’_

_‘A what?’_

_‘There’s a hairstylist further down the street. They’re very good. And it would compliment the suit perfectly.’_

_‘Hmm.’_

_They didn’t seem like a particularly chatty customer but he didn’t complain. He would be a fool to do so. He eyed the cash some more._

***

They did indeed follow his advice and stepped inside the hairdresser’s further down the road where they got the same initial reaction. They rolled their eyes and placed another wad of cash on the till.

_‘So, what will it be?’_

_‘A bob apparently. Whatever that is.’_

_The stylist smiled widely at them._

_‘Oh, I can picture it. It will be absolutely lovely.’_

_They wanted to buzz at him._ Demons were not lovely. _But then they remembered the end goal here._

_‘Do you think it will get me laid?’_

_‘Oh,_ honey _, definitely. You’ll be a sight for sore eyes once I’m done with you.’_

_A small smile threatened the corner of their mouth._

‘Good _.’_

***

It took another trip to purchase those previously mentioned boots and their pursuits for the day were over. _Combat boots_ , Beelzebub couldn’t suppress the smile this time. _This was what it was, wasn’t it?_ Oh, they would have so much fun.

They had felt it last time they met in St James washing off him in waves. Gabriel had more than an innocent interest in them. They will make sure that they’d have the archangel begging on his knees by the end of the month. They didn’t even know if they wanted to get some angelic hate fuck out of it, in a back alley or in a greasy pub. All they knew was that they wanted to make that wanker Gabriel squirm. _Hmm…a shag would be nice, though_. They let it be an option. It really depended on their mood on that particular Tuesday.

They knew Tuesdays were when they’d always meet up randomly in St James. They were banking on it, really. So that’s why they picked up all of their newly tailored suits on Monday and spent the entirety of the evening with one of the corners of their mouth turned slightly up in a very threatening manner.

Tuesday came and they made their way to their usual bench, whisky flask in one hand and cigarette in the other. They knew he’d be here eventually so they stretched languidly across the bench and waited.

Sure enough, only twenty minutes later the smell of ozone could be clear in the air.

They fought back a smile.

‘Ah, Bee, what a pleasure to – _oh…_ ’

‘Hi, Gabe.’

He looked them up and down and gulped.

 _Good_.

‘So,’ they said casually as they rested their right elbow on the backrest, the neckline of the coat turning from suggestive to nearly pornographic, ‘what have you been up to?’

He had no response to give them as he was staring quite pointedly and trying to catch his breath.

They snapped their fingers at him.

‘Wank-wings! My eyes are up here.’

It took a while for him to snap out of it and focus on their face once again.

‘Well, I…’

‘Fancy a drink?’

He extended his hand as a reflex expecting them to pass the flask.

‘No, I was thinking more like going to a pub.’

‘Pub.’

‘See the wide spread they have to offer.’

‘Spread.’

‘Some of the cocktails there leave me properly...insatiable.’

‘Yeah…that.’

‘So?’

He nodded furiously while trying his best to keep his gaze off them. And failing.

Beelzebub came to the conclusion that fighting back the smile that threatened to spill with the force of a mighty waterfall was one of the hardest things they had done in their long life. They soldiered on regardless and managed to keep the general aloof air that was by now a well studied and crafted front. _Rendered art-form, even_.

They got up with an air of utter boredom and started walking towards the exit of the park and a particularly shoddy pub they had had the pleasure of getting shitfaced in on more than a dozen occasions now. The mere thought of Gabriel inside that place with his perfect grey clothes stained by the various sticky cup rings that were one of the pub’s most defining features was something that warmed their cold demonic heart.

They glanced back only to see him firmly rooted into place, looking at them wearily. _Was that hunger in his eyes? It sure looked like it_. They planned on giving him a full show as they started walking again, hips swaying more than strictly necessary. They still very much wanted to rip Crowley’s head clean off but they had to admit that he was right about some things. And if he had managed to tempt that bookish, prudish angel – the perfect picture of innocence - with tight clothes and swaying hips, then they would surely achieve the same goal with that sod, Gabriel. They could feel his each and every lustful thought. _Not what they were individually_ , more like a dark heady energy of a temptation properly accomplished.

They took maybe another ten steps before he was by their side, clad in newly miracled formal clothes, long coat and all. It was early October and the weather hadn’t taken a turn yet so it was quite warm and pleasant outside. So that coat could only have one possible purpose. They kept their eyes up front for most of the walk but every now and again risked sideways glances at him and could see that his hands were dug quite deep into the coat’s pockets and he was squirming slightly. They didn’t comment on it.

They were by the pub’s entrance sooner than they wished for, wanting to see him adjust his stance every few feet for the rest of the day. Or the month. They had never been big on temptations themself, seeing as their job kept them in Hell most of the time but they had always imagined them to be intriguing. _It seems like they were_. More than they had ever thought possible.

They opened the door and gestured for him to step inside. The meaning of it was not lost on any of them. Gabriel entered first, understanding fully what the dynamics of the evening would be like.

They eyed a table in a dark corner and made a beeline for it. Even if they wanted to tempt the angel, they had no intention of being caught by other demons while doing precisely that.

They sat down on the bench with their back to the wall while Gabriel sat down on the seat in front of them. They wanted to have a clear view of the whole place. Especially to have their eyes on the entrance. He seemed in no hurry to take off his coat. They commented on it.

‘It's a bit chilly,’ he replied, trying his hardest to avoid looking at them completely.

‘Is it? Do you need some proper warming up, Gabe?’

He didn’t choke. And he definitely didn’t start coughing for what seemed like a full minute. Archangels didn’t do that.

Beelzebub started thrumming their fingers on the table for the next five minutes, none of them in a very chatty mood, apparently.

They tried getting the bartender’s attention three times and the waiter’s attention more than ten times, making sure that whenever they would wave their hand about that obscene jacket would be as widely spread on their chest as possible. They might have witnessed some three odd gulps.

In the end, the desire to have alcohol cruise through their whole system managed to outmatch their desire to wind Gabriel up so they got to their feet and loudly yelled at the staff.

‘Oi! You there! Yes, you,’ they added as one of the wait staff pointed at himself. ‘We’ve been waiting here for centuries, you know.’

They sat back down as the waiter approached their table.

‘I’ll have a whisky. Neat. You know what? Better bring the whole bottle. And my…companion here,’ they smiled widely with teeth that were a bit sharper than they had any right to be, the waiter realised ‘will have one of your lovely cocktails. What was it called, again? Ah, Sex on the Beach.’

Gabriel nearly fell flat on his back, chair included if it weren’t for one of their hands gripping his arm quite forcefully and keeping him in place. His eyes were wide and he was at a loss of things to say.

‘Don’t get you knickers in a twist, wank-wings. It’s just an innocent name. Humans like to have fun like that. Unless you…’

They let the end of their sentence drop as they leaned in, elbows perched on the table and their shoulders a bit hunched so that the neckline of that very very improper jacket went down almost to their navel.

He was speechless. _Good._

He continued to be speechless for the next five minutes until they brought them the drinks.

They finished their first glass almost instantly, treating it as if it was a shot instead of a filled to the brim glass of whisky. He was still staring at them. Still silent.

 _Oops, maybe they broke the angel_. They didn’t want to break him. _Well, they did_ , but maybe not so easily. They wanted him to toil and suffer.

‘Drink up, you wanker.’

He lifted his eyes up from that neckline and sipped nearly all of the colourful drink all at once.

They found this as good of a time as any to draw their boot up and down his calf.

 _Did the fucker start shivering? Time to stop then._ They really did want to draw this out for as long as possible.

‘Gabe, it’s been…well, I don’t know what it’s been since you couldn’t form two whole sentences for the last two hours, but, I dunno, maybe we can try this again. Tuesday? Five o’clock?’

They fished into one of their pockets to take out some bills and casually throw them on the table as they got up. One of their hands grabbed the bottle of whisky. If they were to spend the night alone they might as well drink themself into a stupor.

His hand shot up and gripped their arm quite forcefully.

_No, no. That simply wouldn’t do._

‘Tuesday. Five.’

They eyed the hand with an icy expression and then they lifted their eyes to meet his and snapped their fingers.

His hand was now gripping on thin air.

***

There was a knock on the door.

‘Come in,’ a rather snappish voice called out.

‘Hi there,’ a cheerful greeting could be heard from the doorway. It was a blonde angel with a wide smile that screamed mischief. ‘I got you the files that you wanted.’

‘Took you long enough.’

The smile never faltered but there was an edge to it now.

‘Maybe next time _you_ should try and sort through all of that camera footage if I seem to fall short.’

Their interlocutor’s eyes shot up, filled with divine wrath. They were only met with an innocent looking expression.

‘It’s not my job to do that.’

‘Then don’t comment on mine.’

Another innocent expression. And a cheeky smile.

‘Fine. Leave them over there. I’ll deal with them when I get to it.’

Both of the angels in the room knew that they would deal with them as soon as that door closed behind the archivist. Neither of them commented about it.

‘Do give us a ring if you need anything else,’ the Keeper of the Records said and tried a mock salute. She was already in the doorway when the other angel called out.

‘Oh and, Pravuil?’

‘Hmm?’

‘I’d be cautious about that type of behaviour if I were you.’

‘You’d do a lot of things differently if you were me, it seems. But you aren’t. Sooo…’ the angel shrugged, ‘that’s just how things are going to be. Cheers.’

The angel at the desk drew in a deep breath and grabbed the file. It contained four pictures with a certain Archangel and a certain Prince of Hell. They smiled widely and started dialling a phone number. It was not a very nice smile if one stopped to consider it.

‘Hi, it’s me.’

‘I should certainly hope so. I don’t plan on chatting with more angels than absolutely necessary.’

‘The feeling is mutual, rest assured.’

‘So?’

‘They took the bait. I’m looking at a picture with both of them sitting on a bench together in the park. Hmm, another one. And another. And… _oooh_! Your Beelzebub sure cleans up nicely. If I were Gabriel, I’d have a really hard time staying away.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean they’ll default to previous behaviours. And then everything will fall into place. You could do your thing. I could do mine. Everyone’s a winner at the end of the day.’

‘What will you tell your lot?’

‘That an angel was properly seduced by a demon, what else?’

‘Pure evil. I like it.’

‘As, I would assume, you’d go on about how a demon fell in love with an angel. Ain’t that right?’

‘Hey! No need to poke holes in my plan. I didn’t poke holes in yours.’

‘I’m not. Just casually observing.’

‘Hmm.’

‘It would be wise to keep your minions on a leash for the time being. I need this to escalate if I plan to show it to all of Heaven. As I’m sure you do as well. No sneak attack, no anything. Yes?’

‘That’s a promise.’

‘Should I even trust the promise of a demon?’

‘You were the one to propose the partnership in the first place. So I think you do. I don’t know what you're getting out of it if Gabriel Falls but I will gain quite a lot if Beelzebub gets fried. So thank you so much for that.’

‘You shouldn’t thank an angel for something like that.’

‘You shouldn’t convince a demon to betray his own kind. Yet here we are.’

‘Here we are.’

‘Nice doing business with you.’


	8. All God's People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention the fact that this whole thing is going to be a cross between mindless banter and unsolicited angst throughout? Well, you had your banter last chapter. Here's some angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that all of the Crowley/Aziraphale chapters until now have been mindless crack. I planned them like that to counter the angsty Beelzie ones. Buuuuut, no one said anything about them not being - well, Crowley, at least - angsty, melodramatic fucks soooo here goes.
> 
> I also know their love confessions were a bit of a joke. That doesn't make the love they have for each other and the power of the sentiment any less true and I felt the need to include this so you don't think they just act like fussy bastards all the time (although they are fussy bastards - Aziraphale, at least - this time around)

‘So, whaddya think?’

‘I quite like it to be honest. Had my doubts, especially with a name like that, but you were right, in the end.’

‘Always am.’

Aziraphale poked him in the ribs. Crowley let out a bark of laughter and nearly spilled his glass of wine.

They were sitting on a picnic blanket and watching the soft colours that the sunset threw over the whole valley. It was black this time, the blanket. Crowley had insisted it was only fair. They still had plenty of the delicacies that Aziraphale had wrapped up for them for the beach side picnic. They had been preserved to be as good as new via a small demonic miracle since Crowley couldn’t give up on having two picnics in two days. He had waited for those picnics for more than fifty years now so he might as well have ten of them per day.

‘Must say I should have expected something wily like this from you, dear. I mean, Devil’s Dyke, Crowley, _really_?’

‘You always liked a wily devil, you,’ the demon smirked as he scooted over and playfully pushed at Aziraphale’s shoulder with his own.

He had expected an irritated huff from the angel, but what he got back was a warm and slightly cheeky smile instead.

‘Just the one, darling.’

He could feel the blush colouring his ears so he pretended to inspect the scenery rather than look back at the angel. It was always such fun to tease Aziraphale but, whenever he was teased back, he always ended up a blubbering mess.

At least Aziraphale had enough common decency not to push it. He instead took Crowley’s hand and let their fingers intertwine.

They sat like that for a long time in companionable silence just as the last of the purples tinged the evening sky. 

_It really was beautiful_ , Aziraphale though. _To be able to see a sight like this every night sure must be nice_. Not to mention witnessing it hand in hand with the love of your life. And it also goes without saying that ‘love of your life’ had to mean so much more for one whose life was 6000+ something.

Maybe they could do this some more. Extend their vacation. Bask in the serenity of the countryside. Watch the sunset together each evening. _Oh and the sunrises as well! Hmm, maybe not those_ since Crowley was in the habit of sleeping till noon like a proper disaster. _Maybe the stars, then_. Crowley would like that. He always liked the stars. And there was so much less light pollution here than in London. The first stars were making their presence known weaving a shining tapestry in the skies above them. 

Crowley leaned back, head resting on the blanket and completely enthralled by the sight above them. He hadn’t let go of Aziraphale’s hand in the process. Even tugged a little so as to indicate that he wanted the angel to lie back as well. 

They were both laying down on their backs now, hands still clasped firmly together. Crowley didn’t know how much time they spent like that. He was dimly aware that at some point Aziraphale had lifted his hand to his lips and gave it a gentle kiss.

‘Penny for your thoughts?’

‘It’s just…so beautiful.’

‘As are you darling. My own personal star-maker. Glorious,’ Aziraphale was all but beaming at him while gently caressing his cheek.

Crowley wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

‘You know about that, huh?’

‘You’ve told me maybe a hundred times now.’

‘I never!’

‘To be fair, you were quite drunk most of those times. _All_ of those times, now that I think of it. There’s nothing to feel ashamed about. It makes me love you even more, darling.’

‘I’m not ashamed, angel. I’m…’ he trailed off as he got up and sat with his knees to his chest, elbows on his knees and did his best to avoid Aziraphale’s gaze.

 _He looks hurt_ , Aziraphale realised.

‘Nostalgic?’

‘Mmm,’ Crowley nodded and doubled his efforts to avoid that look of pity that Aziraphale would obviously wear on his face by now as he closed his eyes.

‘Darling?’

‘Mm?’

‘ _Crowley_.’

‘Yes, angel.’ The last word was said on such a small and broken voice that Aziraphale wanted to have a private conversation with God Herself just this very instant and make his opinion on the Fall quite obvious. _Maybe even use some choice words_. He fought back the waves of divine fury that threatened to break the dam that his carefully crafted self-restraint and complete belief in the Almighty have been for all of those years. He got up and hugged Crowley quite tightly instead.

‘Darling. I know it’s cruel and I know you didn’t deserve it and I can’t imagine what you went through. I don’t even want to _begin_ to imagine it. It kills me to even consider what they did to you. But we’re here now and it’s just us and I love you so much. So what if you don’t make stars anymore? You did so once and they are so very beautiful. And people have marvelled at them for sixty centuries. That’s _all_ you. And you can always make new things. You’ve always been exceedingly imaginative. You’ll _always_ make new things. Those masterful hands of yours will always work hard to have things spring to life under them.’

‘I…I don’t think…’

‘The plants!’ Aziraphale exclaimed loudly and grabbed Crowley’s shoulders.

‘What?’ Crowley’s eyes snapped open in confusion.

‘That’s what you’re doing with the plants!’

‘No, it isn’t. I never yelled at the stars.’

‘Well, needs must, I suppose. Maybe the stars didn’t have leaf spots.’

Crowley chuckled slightly at that. He knew Aziraphale was just trying his hardest to get him out of his sulk. But it wasn’t even that he regretted not creating stuff anymore. _Well, it was, of course it was_. But that was such a small and insignificant part of it that it didn’t even matter. 

He remembered the stars. He remembered each and every one of them. He remembered his fingers shaping them and then his breath blowing over them, painting them in all the colours of the rainbow. All the beautiful nebulae. He remembered voices and white lights and something that pulled at his heartstrings so tightly that it threatened to unravel his very core. And that’s where everything stopped. He didn’t remember what his name was. What he looked like. What the other angels looked like. What exactly did he do that was so horrid to warrant his Fall. All of those were vague half-images that he would try to pursue endlessly and, on the brink of reaching them with the eyes of his mind, would vanish to dust in front of him. He closed his eyes again and he sighed.

‘You’re being very sweet, angel.’

‘No no, none of that!’

Aziraphale cupped his cheeks with both his palms and he pressed his forehead to Crowley’s.

‘Darling, look at me.’

Crowley did, although the reason why he complied so easily evaded him completely.

‘It doesn’t matter that you aren’t an angel anymore. Not to me. You are the best person I’ve ever met, angels and demons and everyone else included. And I’m not giving up on you, no matter what self-deprecating thoughts you come up with. I am yours and you are mine and I don’t plan on letting you forget that any time soon. You are mine, Crowley. From now until the End of Times. And that means something to me. I love the stars, I do. Even more so because you helped create them. But I would give them all up completely if it stopped you feeling like this. No sun, no moon, no stars in the sky are as important as you are to me. So please, dearest, please…’

Aziraphale didn’t even know what he was asking of Crowley. Crowley apparently understood it nonetheless.

He closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss Aziraphale for what seemed like hours.

‘You know what would make this moment even better,’ Crowley said as he finally drew back, slightly out of breath.

‘What is that, dear?’

‘Arguing about Tennyson.’

A small smile was tugging at a corner of his mouth. He had a cheeky glint in his eye. Aziraphale knew that glint. _He was deflecting._

‘No.’

‘Whassat, angel?’

‘I said no. You’re not distracting me from this. Go ahead. Shit on all of them. Will and Oscar and Byron and Wordsworth. The Bronte sisters. Shit on Dante all you like. I don’t give a rat’s arse. You are not changing the subject.’

‘Angel! You said shit! Twice!’

‘Still, no, Crowley.’

Crowley sighed in defeat.

‘Fine! What is it you want from me?’

‘For you to see yourself the same way I see you. The same way I’ve always seen you.’

‘And that is?’

‘Perfection.’

Crowley drew in a deep breath and tried changing the subject once again.

‘What was that about the plants?’ _Aziraphale let him have this one, at least._

‘You love them. Love growing them. Love your little indoor garden in Mayfair.’

‘I most certainly -’

‘You do. But what if we had something more?’

‘Angel?’

‘What if we could watch the stars like this every night. You could tell me stories about them. And we could have a garden of our own. With vines and herbs and a proper yard and -’

‘An apple tree?’

Aziraphale wanted to throw him an angry look but found out he didn’t have it in his power. He threw him a loving one instead.

‘And an apple tree, dear. Of course.’

‘What are you saying, angel?’

‘I’m saying maybe we extend our stay here. Get a cottage. Spend our evenings under the midnight sky. Our days in a little paradise of your own creation. Just be together. Just _be_ , I guess…’

Crowley swallowed audibly.

‘Are you saying -’

‘I want to make a home with you, darling. I want to go to sleep with you in my arms and wake up with you hogging the blankets in that absolutely nefarious way of yours, leaving me to freeze to death in the mornings. I want to read my books with your head in my lap. I want you to drive us all over the place at those insane speeds -’

‘I knew it,’ Crowley chuckled, very pleased with himself. Aziraphale didn’t comment on it.

‘I want us to have our quaint little house together. Want to be there by your side whenever you start doubting yourself like you did just now. Want us to spend each and every minute of our lives together. I want it all.’

Crowley’s eyes were glazed over so he did his best to avoid Aziraphale’s endearing look. He did lean in the angel’s shoulder as he hugged him tightly, nonetheless.

‘Our side.’

‘Our side dearest. Just the two of us. Neither Heaven, nor Hell…’

‘Neither Heaven nor Hell.’

***

I was the early hours of the morning. 

They got back to the rented cottage at maybe 2am and Crowley insisted that they went to sleep. Aziraphale had other thoughts involving books but he acquiesced, nonetheless. He would always do that when his demon had an episode.

Crowley shot up from the bed screaming.

Aziraphale was instantly up as well, not being that much of a heavy sleeper. _Or much of a sleeper at all._

The demon kept breathing shallow breaths.

‘What is it? What happened?’

‘I think I remembered something.’

‘Oh?’

‘From Before.’

‘ _Oh_.’

***

_He could feel the heat of the small star under his fingers. It was thrumming with energy. And it was one of his proudest creations yet. He felt like something was missing, though. There should be two of them. He didn’t know why that was but he knew it for a fact to be true. Orbiting around each other for all of eternity. Together forever. Yin and Yang. Angels didn’t have a precise grasp about what Yin and Yang were supposed to be since those hadn’t been invented yet. But they got the meaning behind it._

_His name was being called._ What was it again? _It escaped his senses like sand flowing through his fingers._

_He turned and watched a lithe presence with sunflower hair and forget-me-not eyes approach him. Again, not that angels knew what either sunflowers or forget-me-nots even were yet since they haven’t been properly invented yet either. She smiled beatifically at him and he smiled back._

_‘I’ve never seen two of them act in tandem like that.’_

_He looked at the duo with the brighter than the sun white star being circled by the yellow one. He didn’t know why he felt the need to create them in perfect harmony but he believed there had to be an ineffable reason behind that._

_‘They’re beautiful together,’ the other angel said, almost caressing the two stars. ‘But why?’_

_He remembered thinking about another angel whose presence was brighter than the actual Sun. Wanting to transcribe that energy into all of his creations._

_Bright energy, brighter than anything else in the whole universe. The sun and all the stars. God Herself, although that was blaspheming. Brighter than the moment of his creation. And it was but a smile. He tried to remember that smile. But it was just brightness. So much of it that it was blinding._

***

Crowley was panting, soaked in sweat.

‘Darling please.’

‘What did you say before?’

‘What did I -’

‘Neither Heaven nor Hell.’

‘Yes darling.’

‘I dreamed about the stars. There was someone there. Someone who also created stars.’

He tried to recall what they called him. _And couldn’t_. Instead of a name it was just a blank space there. An absence of sound. He tried harder and groaned, rubbing at his temples. He would always get a headache when he tried to picture what happened Before. But had never had any dreams about it. Not in his 6000 years of life. He had had seven in the last three months. The reason for that was unclear. _Ineffable_ , he supposed.

He didn’t want to be an angel. He regretted his Fall with all his might, of course he did. But, other than Aziraphale, all of the other angels were being utter shits and he hated the lot of them. _Spending the whole of your existence as a demon did that to you_. But he did want to remember what happened. Being robbed of one’s memories is never pleasant. Especially since those memories had led to something as terrifying and mind-numbing as his Fall.

‘I dreamed about someone else as well. Brighter than all of the stars I helped create. Brighter than you, angel.’

He didn’t want to share that particular bit of information. _There was no one who could surpass the angel_. But he never could lie to him either.

‘I hate that there was someone brighter than you. You are the best thing to have happened to me. And to think that I met someone else Before…’

Aziraphale got up and started to draw soothing circles over Crowley’s back.

‘Neither Heaven nor Hell, dearest. _Always_.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose) for all the support. You're the best beta anyone could wish for!
> 
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed this awful mess. Comments are life.


	9. Good Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get a certain bastard angel's view on some events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Queen-listening schedule apparently doubled since I started writing this mess.

_All he remembered were the voices, and even those flowed slowly and he could just barely hear some bits of what they were saying as if he was listening from underwater. He tried opening his eyes and the light all around was so bright that he shut them almost instantly. The voices never stopped. He tried focusing on them and, if he really concentrated, he realised he could understand the words._

_‘Such a lovely day, don’t you think?’_ Was that…was that his own voice?

 _‘All the days have been lovely, so far,’ he could hear a melodious voice answer._ It sounded like wind chimes _, he thought._ Well, current him thought _. 6000-years-ago him had no idea what wind chimes were. And he was quite certain that what he was witnessing –_ or could it be remembering? _\- was 6000-years-ago him._

_‘Just…um…just wanted to say hi, I suppose.’_

_‘Well, hello. What was it you did?’_

_‘Not sure, to he honest. I’m still waiting to be assigned a function. Takes a while, you know. What with twenty million angels around.’_

_‘I have been tasked with making stars. Isn’t that wonderful!’ the beautiful voice exclaimed and he could just about hear the smile behind those words._

_‘Pretty high up on the chain of command if you have a job already.’_

_‘Seraph. Isn’t it obvious? Oh,_ right _. Where did I put all of those rings of fire? I’m sure I had them just a moment ago. Ah, there they are.’_

_He could hear his own gasp._

_‘Oh, sorry. I’m so sorry, didn’t mean to startle you like that. I’ll put them away. Probably why I put them away in the first place, now that I think of it.’_

_He felt his heart nearly burst with love for that voice. He tried opening his eyes a second time and there was just a hint of golden curls before the light nearly blinded him yet again._

_‘No need to apologise. You just caught me by surprise, that’s all.’_

_‘Well, still. I was rather rude of me. At least you won’t take me by surprise.’_

_‘What’s that?’_

_‘You have all of your wings on full display.’_

_‘Oh. Yeah. I’ll put them away.’_

_‘So, what’s your name, mysterious Archangel? Mine’s -’_

_**Gabriel.** _

_It wasn’t his voice. I wasn’t any of the other angel voices either. He gulped._

_‘Yes, Lord?’_

_**Am I interrupting the two of you?** _

_‘No, Lord, absolutely not,’ the beautiful voice said. ‘We were just remarking on what a lovely day it is.’_

_**All the days have been lovely.** _

_‘Took the words right out of my mouth, ain’t that right - Gabriel, was it?’ the voice said and laughed a little crystalline laughter._

_Gabriel couldn’t believe his ears. When God spoke to you, you said “yes, Lord” and “no, Lord” and “I will do anything to serve you, Lord” – you didn’t banter with God._

_‘Anyhow, I’ll leave you be. Seems like you have important stuff to discuss. It’s been a pleasure as always, Lord. Oh, and Gabe - see you around.’_

***

Gabriel shot up from the armchair with eyes as wide as saucer plates and panting slightly.

_What exactly was that?_

He hadn’t spoken to God in more than 6000 years. And the other angel? Her voice seemed so familiar somehow. But he had never met an angel that would be cheeky with God Herself. And the feeling he got when he heard that voice…that was a bit more than love for all things.

_Was he hallucinating? Having an out-of-body experience? What exactly was this?_

He didn’t know what brought this around. He had been sitting in his Hyde Park apartment and watching telly. Apparently that was something the humans did to waste their time. And he wanted to waste all of his time until his next meeting with Beelzebub.

After angrily pacing the flat for a full day he went out for a change and walked around aimlessly.

 _What had that been?_ He remembered some nonsense about saying yes to a dress. _What a stupid thing to broadcast_. Dresses didn’t speak and he doubted they could understand language. And then he remembered his eyes closing and then that strange vision happened. _Was it a vision? What else could it be?_

At some point a very sleek shop window got his attention.

He went inside.

‘How can I help you, sir?’

‘Um…what exactly are you…selling?’

Truth be told he just liked the whole aesthetic and wanted to occupy his mind with something else, anything else than all of the questions that swam through his head about that particular angel.

‘Only the newest and most top of the line technology.’

That sounded fancy so he gave a small nod of approval. And everything looked so sleek.

‘You have heard of Apple…right?’ the vendor looked dubious.

Gabriel nodded some more. _He had, hadn’t he?_ He wasn’t lying. Although he was thinking more of the apple that tempted Eve rather than electronic devices.

The vendor still looked at him in a funny way but this bloke looked loaded so it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Half an hour later Gabriel left the shop with a bag full of Apple products.

He went home – _huh, home – as if!_ He shook his head at the mere thought. _Was that how Aziraphale saw things? Did he think of the bookshop as his home? Maybe that was the problem. Too much time spent on Earth apparently does that to you head._ He desperately wanted to go back to Heaven but his last conversation with Michael had been rather final.

_No Gabriel, you’re staying down there._

Was this his punishment for royally fucking up? Having to spend the rest of eternity down here? _Yes, of course, the clothes were nice. And those apple things as well_ , although he disapproved of the bite-mark on the logo. But humans were awfully… _human_. He didn’t much care for them. On the other hand, he got to talk to Beelzebub. _Well, stare down her none-existing shirt_ was the more accurate description and he berated himself for it for a full day before falling into a sulk and turning on the TV. And then the weird bit happened. _He would try to be more eloquent on their next meeting_ , he thought to himself as he cleared his throat and adjusted his neck-tie resuming the walk back to his flat at a brisk pace. He’ll try not to make an ass of himself this time. And maybe wear a suit. _Was that too much? Here we go again with the doubting. You’re Archangel Fucking Gabriel, man up!_

He deposited all of the newly bought merchandise on the marble counter-top of his kitchen isle and started unpacking all of them one by one. He really, really liked those. Smooth and elegant lines and metal and glass. _Expensive as well_. He liked expensive stuff.

The next four days were spent setting everything up and learning to use all of this new technology. It was surprisingly very easy to use. He spent maybe more than 90 hours on something called YouTube. _Which was weird since it apparently it didn’t contain any tubes. Well, it did if you searched for tubes_. But those particular videos were proving to be very boring indeed. He closed his eyes, again.

***

_‘So, what have you been up to?’_

_He could feel his feet swing about over the edge of a cloud._

_‘Not much, really. God said that I’m going to be Her messenger angel.’_

_‘Nice!’_

_‘But She has yet to give me a task.’_

_‘Eh, She will eventually.’_

_He felt a sharp prod to the ribs. Almost as if the other angel elbowed him._

_‘Messenger to who exactly?’ he could hear himself say. ‘She can speak directly to all of the other angels. Why bother with a third party?’_

_‘I’m sure you’ll be a very competent messenger, Gabe.’_

_‘You’re just being nice.’_

_‘Nice, oh lovely Archangel? I’m never nice. Seraph and all. I_ am _always true, though.’_

_‘Hm. Good to hear that. Peliel laughed at me when I told him about my newfound position.’_

_‘Well, Virtues were always arseholes – we all know that.’_

_He laughed._ Well, back-then-him laughed. _He still couldn’t handle the brightness._

_‘They are a bit, right?’_

_‘A bit? You’re being awfully sweet.’_

_He got the feeling that the other angel was staring at his lips. He didn’t know why, he just did._

_‘You_ are _sweet, aren’t you, lovely Archangel.’_

***

He nearly cried out when he got up from one of the dozen sofas that seemed to litter the whole place. _Why did he need four guest-rooms? It didn’t matter._ He wanted the most expensive apartment out there and he got it.

He could still feel the trace of inhumanly soft lips on his and he was supposed to meet Bee in about an hour. Beelzebub. _He had promised them that, right?_ Better get ready for that.

He wore a suit in the end. _And why shouldn’t he?_ He would wear whatever he wished and no one should question his choices. _Especially not a demon_. On the other hand, he was walking at a very fast pace to meet that certain demon so maybe it did matter just a little bit what they would have to comment on it. He spotted them before they were able to spot him and he smiled widely. _No, no, get a grip on yourself._ He cleared his throat and forced his expression into a neutral one.

‘Hi, Bee.’

He sat down on the bench, taking them by surprise.

‘You absolute wanker!’

‘Huh?’

‘You scared me half to death!’

‘I did?’

‘Yeah, you did, you spunktrumpet!’

‘Um…’

‘Never creep up like that on me again or this is the last time I’m talking to you! You know what? Why am I even talking to you in the first place?’ they said angrily as they got up from the park bench.

His hand shot up almost instantly through no will of his own. They eyed it with disgust in their eyes as it was gripping the fabric of one of their sleeves.

There was a really big shift in behaviour between their last meeting and this one and even someone as oblivious as Gabriel caught up on it.

‘Please, Bee…Beelzebub. I’m sorry, I truly am. You have no idea what a horrible week I had. I promise I’ll never take you by surprise like this again,’ he said as he let go of their sleeve and lifted both of his palms up in a ‘this be a truce’ manner.

‘Horrible week? _You_? What - did you get a strongly-worded note from darling Mike?’

‘I saw images of Before.’

They instantly stopped sneering and they even reluctantly sat down on the bench.

‘What about Before?’

‘I apparently met an angel that I have no knowledge of.’

‘So?’

‘ _So?_ I don’t have all of my memories from Before. I seem to miss certain things.’

‘You utter arsebadger! Don’t have all of your memories indeed. I have none!’

‘I’m sorry...I...I didn’t know that!’

‘And about the awful week – I feel like this is storytime. Did you, perchance, get rounded up by other angels?’

‘No...?’

‘Storytime it is then.’

‘How so?’

‘You’ll get to receive my first-hand account of how I beat up three demons in less than five minutes.’

‘That sounds...interesting.’

‘It is. Brace yourself.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If y'all want to hate on Gabriel some more, go and look for the One Hyde Park apartments. They sell at 75 million pounds. The common ones, at least. The penthouse was sold at 160 million. And if you all picture Gabriel the same way I do you should envision him buying the penthouse. Doesn't matter that his stay on Earth is temporary and all.
> 
> The Bee swearwords that she spews at Gabe are supplied by the ever so wonderful [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose). Them British people sure have their way with language.


	10. Body Language

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Husbands go a-house-buying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's quaint little old grandmas in it because I watched a lot of Midsummer Murders in my youth.

‘Why did I agree to do this the human way, angel?’ Crowley asked while huffing and swiping some sweat off his forehead while smearing some more dust on it in the process. 

It seemed to permeate everything, it did, the dust. Crowley could have sworn his very insides were coated with it. 

There were three reasons why that was: 1. That the bookshop was nearing its 140th anniversary so you got a lot of time for dust to gather in so many years; 2. That Aziraphale had never let the thought of dusting ever enter his ethereal mind; 3. That Aziraphale had insisted they pack everything in the bloody dusty bookshop the human way, rather than use any angelic or demonic miracles.

‘I thought it would be more fun this way,’ Aziraphale said dejectedly as he too was covered from head to toes in a thick layer of dust and was just taking in the sight of his ruined clothes.

‘Yeah, _fun_ ,’ Crowley rolled his eyes and got a smack out of it now that his expression was clear for the angel to notice. A “no sunglasses while inside” policy had been instated by the angel not even a full week after the Near End of Days. That particular policy had earned Crowley a wide array of smacks during the last three months and a half.

‘I mean, look at you!’

Aziraphale did and pouted some more. His clothes had seen a lot of better days. _All of them, to be honest._

‘Yes, well, I stand corrected. You can even tell me “I told you so” on that mocking tone of yours. It’s something you take great pleasure in doing, anyway.’

Crowley looked him up and down and stepped forward, backing the angel up into one of the now empty bookshelves. ‘Mmm, I think I’ll take pleasure in a number of other things, right now.’

This was said as Crowley inspected the state of undress the angel was in and wet his lips. The state of undress consisted of the angel having given up his coat and waistcoat – or cardigan as he had started wearing those lately - at some point or other, and rolled his sleeves over his elbows. Even the bow-tie seemed to be missing and the top two buttons of his shirt were opened. _It was hard and strenuous job to be lugging boxes chock-full of books around._

‘There is a time and a place, Crowley,’ Aziraphale said while also inspecting Crowley’s dishevelled state and gulping. _Audibly._

‘Yeah, and that time and place are here and now.’

‘We’re downright dirty, my dear. And there’s no need to act like savage-’

He was quickly shut up with a passionate kiss and, as he had his hands pinned to one of the shelves, he felt every word of protest quickly take a leave of absence.

‘I don’t think you’ll mind an awful lot once I’m done with you.’

***

A week prior to that they found themselves in Brighton going house buying, apparently.

‘We hired one of the London estate agents. Why is that exactly, angel?’

This was said as Crowley drank his completely black and unsweetened cup of coffee at the corner café with a slight frown.

‘Well, I was led to believe they are the best. And it would have made our meetings easier to plan,’ Aziraphale answered mirroring Crowley’s frown as he bit into his croissant.

‘I have to say I would have preferred one of those lovely people better,’ Crowley pointed out at some chipper and cheerful agent that just waltzed in front of them showing a young couple all of the studio apartments she could think of.

‘Well, well, look at you wanting to get the wholesome experience.’

‘Shut it.’

‘I actually thought you’d enjoy the…hmm…not-too-wholesome one even more.’

‘If I want annoying and haughty there’s always me around. Never much liked it in other people. I should be the one to ruin other people’s day, not the other way around.’

‘Whatever you say, darling.’

Their agent was shouting her head off over the phone a couple of feet away. Crowley felt bad for whoever was on the receiving end of that phone call.

She finished the call by calling the person at the other end a rather imaginative expression that Crowley hadn’t heard before but saved for later in case the need would ever arise.

He still didn’t like the woman though. She kept throwing them side glances when she thought they weren’t paying attention and they were not very nice side glances. So he made sure to be as melodramatic and out there as possible, hand draped over Aziraphale’s shoulders more than necessary and calling him “daaaaaarling” three times per minute.

‘Oh, she’s coming back. I’m going to pretend you told a very funny joke. And when we get up from the table you could try to smack my bum.’

‘Crowley, there really is no need for this kind of behaviour. We both know we’re the same age. It doesn’t bother me.’

‘Well, it bothers me. It’s the principle of the thing. I don’t like people making assumptions about you.’

‘Alright, you can pretend all you wish. I am not cupping your bum in front of the woman, though.’

‘You’re no fun! Shhh, here she comes.’

‘Are you two done? Can we get going? I never had a lunch break on the agenda for today.’

What they had on the agenda was apparently visiting 10 houses that screamed manor-house instead of cottage although they had instructed her specifically that that was what they were after. And kept repeating it after each and every one of the houses they saw.

‘Oh, nonsense. You don’t know what you want. And it looks like you have the money to afford it,’ he said eyeing Aziraphale. It was very clear from her tone that she assumed both the museum piece of a car and Crowley’s designer everything were all gifts from the angel.

Crowley had gone off at some point because if he would see one more stuffy Victorian house with symmetric layout and a lawn you could eat your dinner off of he would lose it. Not to mention those horrible geometrically cut bushes. _He despised those_.

He had actually left after the angel had pointed out a quaint little house that they passed on their way to the next horrible mausoleum. 

‘What about that? It says it’s for sale in the window. And it looks delightful.’

‘Pff, no taste, whatsoever. I wouldn’t be caught dead selling something like that.’ She failed to add that the bigger the price of the house the larger the commission.

‘You go on without me, daaarling, I need to check something up,’ Crowley said as he made sure to give the angel quite a suggestively long kiss and then made sure to sway his hips as much as humanly – well, _inhumanly_ – possible.

The estate agent couldn’t give less of a shit if Crowley joined them or not since he was obviously not the deciding factor. Not to mention that all his insights had been rather critical and she was getting quite tired of the “your buddy Oscar would have looved that”, “that looks right out of Pride and Prejudice” and “would you look at that awful shrubbery” comments.

***

He retraced his steps. Sure enough, there was a phone number in the window. He dialled the number and placed the call.

‘Hello?’ he could hear an elderly voice on the other end.

‘Um, yeah, hi. Do you happen to have a house for sale by any chance?’

‘Just my little cottage, dear.’

‘Fabulous. Could I take a tour?’

‘When would you like to schedule that? I'll grab my pen.’

‘Right about now, sums it up. I’m sitting outside your yard.’

A curtain was drawn back from a window on the top floor and Crowley gave a little smile and wave.

‘Yup. That’s me. So. Tour?’

‘Yes, of course. Just wait a moment. It takes me a while to get down the stairs. You know how it is, old bones and everything.’

‘No worries. I have all the time in the world.’

_That wasn’t necessarily true since he didn’t want to subject Aziraphale to that awful woman for longer than he should._

The front door opened and there was a little old lady sitting in the door-frame looking him up and down seemingly pondering what her next move should be. She apparently made up her mind as she waved him over.

‘Come on in. The gate’s open. I’ll put the kettle on.’

Crowley was delighted to see that maybe quaint old grandmas saw him a in a better light than haughty estate agents.

He crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him looking around for the owner of the cottage.

‘In here, dear,’ he could hear from somewhere to his left. 

He found himself in a narrow hallway with a rickety looking wooden staircase just in front of him.

‘Um…’

‘Come in, come in. I made biscuits this morning. Would you like some? They’re cold now, unfortunately, but they do go nicely with the tea. They’re ginger and lemon. I hope they’re to your liking.’

There were two doors on the left. Both the rooms seemed too small to be the kitchen. _Loo and pantry_ , most probably. He took some tentative steps further inside the house and, sure enough, the kitchen was the next thing he saw on the left while on the right there was a very large open space filled to the brim with old memorabilia. It had two couches and countless armchairs and even a reading nook with bay windows overlooking a backyard brimming with life.

He tried not to snoop, though, and went in the direction of the voice.

‘Oh, there you are. Here, have a seat.’

He did so and a cup of tea together with a plateful of biscuits were pushed his way. _Aziraphale would have had a field day over here_. But instead he got stuck with that awful woman. _Well, it was his fault for wanting to be proper and go through an estate agent of all things_. Crowley had suggested some light internet research and then them going together for a drive and that would have been the end of that.

_‘Things have to be done in a certain way,’ the angel had said. ‘There’s proper procedures for everything.’_

_Well then_ , Aziraphale and his proper procedures were spending the afternoon with Cunt 1.0 while he was enjoying biscuits and Earl Gray. He cursed the angel a little bit for still not getting a proper smartphone. He would have very much enjoyed sending him a picture of the wonderful spread before him right now and maybe caption it “I told you so”. _He did enjoy doing that_ , Aziraphale had been right. He couldn’t force back a smile.

‘I’m Gertrude, by the way. You can call me Gertie,’ the little old woman extended a hand after she rubbed it clean on her apron.

She almost but not quite reached his elbow; she was so short. But the look she threw him from behind half-moon spectacles accompanied by the smile and glint in her eye told him better than to underestimate her. She sported a low bun and very, very colourful clothing. Madame Tracy would have been jealous.

‘Name’s Crowley. Anthony, if you really must, although I don’t much prefer it.’

He took her hand and shook it. That was a _very_ firm handshake.

‘Crowley. Nice to make your acquaintance. You said you were interested in the cottage.’

‘Seems stellar so far. The angel would like it a lot,’ he said as he got that besotted look he always got when thinking about Aziraphale. After 6000 years there was no use in denying he did that anymore.

Her smile turned even wider.

‘Oh, are you thinking about moving in with your special someone?’

‘You could say that. He’s my… _um_ …’

‘Nevermind that. Whatever he is to you it’s clear you care about him a great deal. Eat those biscuits up, you’re as thin as a rake!’

Crowley laughed and nibbled on one of them.

‘Me and my husband lived here for nearly fifty years. It was a good home. A _loved_ home.’

‘ _Mmm_ , these are really good. Why are you moving then?’

‘He died last year and the house is getting a bit too much for me to handle. And the children keep insisting that I move closer to them and the little ones.’

He nodded and ate another biscuit. _They were damn good_ and he didn’t even enjoy sweets.

‘Do you want that tour?’

‘Well, I was quite enjoying your biscuits, Gertrude, you know?’

‘Gertie, please. You’ve earned it. You seem like a very nice young man.’

Crowley fought back a snippy reply.

‘I’m a proper demon, me.’ 

‘I’m sure you are,’ she said as she patted the top of his head and made her way to the living room, debate apparently over.

_Oh, Aziraphale would get along with her like a house on fire._

‘So, this is the main room. This is where we used to spend most our days. Our Reggie would read the newspaper in that corner there and the little ones would play around. It’s a bit too big and empty for me nowadays.’

Crowley refrained from further commenting about the walk down memory lane. The room though was extremely cosy. He could just about imagine Aziraphale all cooped up near the fireplace with a book in his lap…and… _well_ …maybe Crowley in his lap from time to time on his love-seat that they would absolutely have to bring over from the bookshop.

The bay windows were also a major highlight. And the peonies that grew just in front of them sure looked like they needed a good yell.

‘Let’s head upstairs. It’s not very big but I think it will do the trick for a young couple like you.’

‘I’m not that young.’

‘I’m nearly eighty, dear. Don’t talk to me about being old.’

‘Hmm, you’d be surprised,’ he muttered under his breath.

Upstairs was not all that exciting but it was everything they needed plus some added extra space for Aziraphale’s books since they didn’t need two guest bedrooms.

‘Oh, you absolutely have to see the garden. I haven’t been able to tend to it properly but with a right touch it can be as good as new.’

If she wouldn’t have mentioned it, he would have. He really wanted to see the garden. True to her word, Gertrude took a long time to go both up and down the stairs but he couldn’t be bothered since this was looking very much like what he had in mind when thinking about moving in with the angel. He would take all the time in the world to make sure it was absolutely perfect.

She opened the backdoor to the yard and pointed at him to step outside and he gasped. 

The whole fence was covered in ivy that grew wild and free and not at all stilted like those horrible shrubberies. There was a small pond with a few water lilies and in the back of the garden there was a small wooden bench just underneath…an apple tree.

‘Sold.’

‘Shouldn’t I be the one to say that, dear?’

‘Whatever price you want, I’ll double it.’

‘Oh, come now. You don’t even know what I’m asking. It could be preposterous.’

‘Whatever it is. I’ll double it.’

He looked back at the house with the thatched roof and the built-in planters with those peonies that could do with a proper yelling at and the thick wood beams that had seen a lot of better days and he closed his eyes and sighed. _This was it._

***

‘Angel!’ Crowley shouted from across the lawn. 

Aziraphale turned to look at him with an obviously pained expression about having been left alone with that horrid wench for the day.

‘I bought us a house!’ he announced loudly.

‘You _what_?’ the estate agent couldn’t believe her ears.

‘A quaint little cottage. It has a pond and two rooms for your books and an apple tree.’

Aziraphale smiled widely at him.

‘Well, not actually _bought_ bought. There’s papers to sign and all of that. Wait a moment,’ he lifted a finger as he answered his phone. ‘Patrick? Yeah, your mum said you’d call. I gather you take care of her legal doings. Was wondering when you can sign the deeds over?’

Aziraphale glanced over at the estate agent and she was all but fuming.

‘Oh, no no, I know all about the initial sum but didn’t your mum tell you about the agreement? I’m willing to pay double. What do you mean, that’s fishy? I am giving you twice the money, how is that fishy? You know what, let’s set up a meeting. Yeah, tomorrow works for me. Good then. Noon? I’ll send you the details.’

He hung up the phone and he beamed at the angel, crossing the perfectly taken care-of lawn without a care in the world.

‘You…?’ the real estate agent gaped at him.

‘Myeah, appearances can be deceiving. Maybe stop being a judgemental bitch, every now and again, that’s my advice for you.’

Aziraphale stifled a laugh, blushed really obviously and then rolled his eyes and smacked his bum. 

Crowley burst out laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose) for being a dear. Could not have written or continued any of this without you, seeing as I'm a mess - receiving feedback-wise. But you do give the best praise and advice and you are an awful sweetheart!


	11. Scandal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bee and Gabe get to know more of each other. And we get to meet a couple of other angels, as well.

‘Pub?’

‘Pub.’

‘So, what made you get your knickers in a twist like that, hmm?’

Beelzebub looked around and spotted the young waiter from last time. He was completely enthralled by something on his phone and not paying any of the patrons any mind. The patrons in question were Beelzebub and Gabriel and an old drunk who was snoring lightly with his head on the table in the far corner.

‘Oi!’

It took a moment for him to realise the ‘oi’ had been directed at himself and even then he looked slightly confused.

‘We’d like to order.’

He blinked in confusion again.

‘I don’t see any other wait staff around although I’d certainly like to, so move your zzzorry arse -’

‘Bee!’

‘Shut it.’

‘I’ll have…hmm…some Bourbon. Second cheapest. I feel in a generous mood today. Bring the bottle.’

They turned back towards Gabriel who was throwing them a slightly affronted look.

‘Yeah so, knickers, twist – elaborate.’

‘I had these weird vision thingies and there was another angel there. And God. But everything was too bright and I couldn’t open my eyes. Just heard things. And then my head hurt an awful lot when I tried playing it over again.’

They were all too familiar with headaches after trying to pursue dreams about Before.

‘What do you mean visions?’

It was at this particular moment that the waiter came over and started filling two glasses.

‘Like you close your eyes and then you get these images – well, sounds in my case.’

‘Like dreaming?’

‘Is that what it’s called?’

They snorted.

The waiter threw them a funny look.

‘Yeah. People dream when they fall asleep, you twat.’

Gabriel looked horrified.

‘So you think that’s what it was? I fell asleep? That sounds disgustingly… _human_.’

The waiter was staring at them with his mouth hanging open.

‘Take a picture, it’ll lazzzt longer,’ Beelzebub said as they picked the bottle from his hands and topped their own glass with some more Bourbon.

He was still staring.

‘You can go away now,’ they said as they made some shooing gestures.

He did do that but he kept throwing them dubious looks from the other side of the bar.

‘Why are you like this?’

‘Like what?’ they hummed as they took a big gulp of Bourbon. ‘Mmm…certainly better than the cheapest one. Drink up,’ they pushed the second glass towards the Archangel.

‘Rude. That was unwarranted just now with that…boy.’

‘Why am I rude? Are you for real?’ they pointed down at themself and for the first time today he realised that their clothes were just as tight and revealing as the ones they had worn last time. He gulped. ‘I’m a demon, I’m supposed to be rude. And anyhow, you were just acting shocked that you fell asleep for the first time.’

‘Yes?’

‘In front of a human.’

‘Yes? _Oh_.’

‘Yeah, oh, you oaf.’

His gaze seemed stuck to the middle of their chest and in no hurry to actually leave.

‘Drink. Up.’ They pushed the glass again.

‘I…is this as bad as the one you offered the first time?’ he looked at the glass with disgust.

They rolled their eyes and snapped their fingers and his glass of Bourbon was shocked to find itself become a tall champagne flute filled with something orange instead.

‘What’s that?’

‘A mimosa. You seem the type,’ they said as they rolled their eyes some more and downed their glass.

‘This is a lot better than that, actually. Thanks.’

‘You shouldn’t go around thanking demons. What would darling Mike think of you?’

‘You seem to fixate on Michael.’

Beelzebub frowned a bit as they realised that they did. This was the second time they mentioned Michael today.

‘What can I say, she’s a bitch.’

Gabriel smirked, despite himself. _She was a bit, wasn’t she?_ And then quickly realised what he was doing and cleared his throat trying to turn his expression into one with at least a bit of semblance of propriety. But it was too late, Beelzebub had already spotted that.

‘Good to see even a mighty Archangel thinks the same. That’s awfully nasty of you. I _like_ it!’

He cleared his throat some more. _They liked it?_ This conversation was doing weird things to his nether regions. He shifted slightly in his seat. They poured themself another glass of Bourbon and lifted their elbow to drape it on the back of their seat baring more chest than necessary.

Gabriel was openly staring. It was no use even trying to convince himself this was anything else. He imagined his hands being able to touch that porcelain skin, to roam all over, fingers digging into hips, hot breath on his throat, teeth sinking into his shoulder and _oh, that did a number of things to him_. They must be aware of the effect they had on him. _Must be doing it on purpose_. Trying to tempt an angel like that. Problem was, they were quite successful in their tempting.

On the other side of the table Beelzebub was doing some mental mathematics about how longer they’d have to keep this shit up to get the angel to unravel completely. It’s not that they didn’t enjoyed it, _oh they enjoyed it plenty_ but they did miss the comfort of their usual clothes. Or that blessed hoodie. The suit wasn’t the most comfortable thing and they couldn’t wait to get rid of it. They could feel his eyes on them and at least that felt nice. Three hours ago when those wretched demons had tried jumping them it hadn’t felt nice at all.

***

‘Well, well. It looks like the rumours were true, after all. A Prince of Hell, whoring themself up for an angel,’ one of them had leered at them.

They felt their shoulders tense. They closed their eyes, drew in a deep breath and tried to asses the situation. There were three of them. They were low level demons however, so they were fairly certain they could take them. And they were right behind them, in the mouth of an alley. No one else was around so they didn’t need to worry themself with all of that tedious memory wiping.

They buzzed a bit, alight with Hellish fury.

There was a reason they had chosen to present themself in a slightly feminine form. And that reason was that throughout all of time, ever since creation itself, women have been seen as a necessary evil. They didn't see themself that way, but they sympathised.

 _All of the sins of mankind? Well, we have Eve to blame for that. That awful mess with the Trojan Wars? Oh, another woman there as well. No one talked about hungry power grabs and strategic interests and the like. No no, it was Helen’s face that launched those ships, not power-hungry bastards. There’s a plague going on? Oh, it must be all of those courtesans. Civil unrest and horrible living conditions? Well, it had to be witches, didn’t it?_ They had personally made sure that all of those “lovely” Inquisition people were given the “best” spots Hell had to offer. Paid them a visit quite regularly.

And they had witnessed it throughout history time and time again. Women being sold or exchanged as common gods. Women being property. Women being stoned to death for the simple fault of being a woman in the first place. They supposed things were getting somehow a little bit better now. By 0.1% since in the bright era of the internet something like victim shaming started happening all over the place. _All of those bloody hashtags_. Crowley said that he invented those. In retrospect he had been lying through his teeth, _that soft son of a bitch_.

They had always had a soft spot for the _hah!_ gentler sex. _What a fucking laugh, even that_.

‘Maybe they enjoy getting roughed up a bit, ain’t that right, mah Prince?’

‘And now that Hell doesn’t care about protecting ‘em anymore…’

_They looked frail, now did they? Fancy that..._

That did it. Their eyes snapped open and - if one looked at them closely - they could see they were all but blazing red. _They'd show them gentle_.

In maybe a millisecond they grabbed at the Stop traffic sign pole maybe a meter away from them and snapped it in half. _What’s a little iron to a powerful denizen of the Underworld?_

Then they spun on their heels and swung it hard at the first demon’s head. Some very famous baseball players would have paid them good money for some lessons. He crumpled to the ground with an obviously bashed-in head.

Before giving them any time to rethink or regroup they rolled the sign post around so that the pointy end was in the front now and pushed it hard into the second demon’s stomach, impaling him to the side of a building. They thought it was wedged maybe half a meter deep in the brickwork as well, they were that angry.

 _Fuming_. They felt the heat all around them and drew it in, deeply inhaling as they did so.

The third demon quickly realised what was about to happen and started to draw back in the alley they came from. There were only two problems. The first one was that when Beelzebub fixed their eyes on him he became scared shitless and apparently couldn’t properly control his legs anymore, so he stumbled backwards, continuing to retreat by pushing himself back with the heels of his hands, all sprawled on the ground. The second one was that this was a dead end.

Beelzebub smiled widely and not at all pleasantly and then blew down Hellfire all over the terrified demon.

They eyed the other two and did the same. Last thing they wanted was to have people making inquires about two dead demons in the middle of London and broadcasting it all over the fucking news.

They didn’t do anything about the traffic sign and in the weeks that followed there was quite a lot of talk going on on Twitter about superheroes or mutants being a thing as a lot of pictures were being exchanged and retweeted with a stop sign wedged quite forcefully in the side of a building.

But they couldn’t be bothered about that. They had places to be. And Archangels to tempt.

They brushed the none-existing lint off one of their shoulders and headed to St James.

***

They had unconsciously crossed their arms across their chest and frowned.

‘Bee?’

‘What?’

They realised they hadn’t paid much mind to what the Archangel had been saying for the last couple of minutes and jerked in surprise as they felt a hand on their forearm. They didn’t much like when people touched them without their consent. It was very obvious to them why that was, if we went by their later interaction, at least.

‘Is everything alright? You mentioned demons. And storytime.’

‘What? Ah, _that_. Yeah, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.’

‘Are you sure about that?’

‘I just discorporated 3 demons. There. Story over.’

‘What happened? Did they try to hurt you? Is it about what you said back then? About Hell wanting your head on a platter? Cause you need to be more careful if that’s true. Did the Dark Council send them?’

‘Aren’t you acting like a mother hen? No, the Dark Council didn’t send them. Or, if they did, they are even stupider than I thought. It took me minutes, Gabe. If the Dark Council wants you royally fucked up and trust me, _they do_ , they should try to do better than that.’

‘But aren’t you -’

‘I told you I don’t want to talk about it.’

They saw this moment as good of a time as any to brush the tip of their boot to his calf.

‘Um,’ he gulped.

‘I would like to talk about other stuff, if you're are amenable.’

He nodded, desperately.

‘First of is how can you even stand these things?’

‘Huh?’

They pointed down at the suit. And drew his attention to it yet again.

‘They’re uncomfortable and they chafe.’

‘Why did you buy any then?’

‘Aaaa…felt like trying it out. But it sucks.’

‘Go back to the usual, then. You looked good in your usual clothes.’

They fought back a little smile.

‘Don’t you like it, then?’

He couldn’t help but let his eyes wander downwards yet again.

‘I do. But if it’s uncomfortable…’

‘Ah, how quaint of you, _sweet Archangel_ ,’ they drawled, sarcasm dripping off their every word.

His hand slapped the table and he stared at them with wide eyes.

‘Say…say that again.’

‘Quaint?’

‘No…the other thing.’

‘Oh, there’s no need to work yourself up like that all because of some meaningless words. You could get worked up about other… _thingzzz_ ,’ they leaned down and cupped his knee under the table.

‘Nhhh.’

‘I could show you, if you wanted?’

‘Nhhhhn,’ he nodded furiously.

‘There’s a backalley, just behind the pub. Shall we?’

He nodded some more.

***

At the end of the day he found out that even being Archangel fucking Gabriel didn’t stand in the way of getting pinned to a wall. _Not since Beelzebub was doing the pinning_.

He had almost melted and lost the use of his legs the moment Beelzebub pushed him forcefully against the wall in the dirty back alley and the thought of him sullying his designer clothes was quickly silenced as they started doing some ungodly things to the side of his neck. He was sure it would leave a lot of bruising and possibly bite marks. They had also managed to place a knee just…hmmm…just… _so_ and _wow, were they working that knee wonderfully_.

His hands were gripping at the brickwork and he supposed he managed to crumble more than ten of the bricks underneath his fingers.

That was also the subject of another Twitter craze but none of them could be bothered with that at the moment.

‘Bee…please…’

 _Oh, yes. Finally!_ They smiled against the side of his neck as they pulled back.

He whined and threw them a desperate look.

‘Oh, Gabe, we’ll have none of that. After all, Lust is one of the seven deadly ones. And Patience is a virtue, no?’

‘Virtues are all assholes,’ he managed, panting.

‘Everybody knows that, eh?’

‘Bee…’

‘Enough. I will be going and -’ they swatted at one of his hands, ‘you will be leaving me alone if you know what’s best for you.’

They looked him up and down. He looked positively wretched.

‘Don’t pout, Gabe. Tuesday, five o’clock?’

He closed his eyes, sighed and then nodded.

‘Or maybe even before that if we run into each other. I quite like the park. The geese are particularly demonic,’ they smiled a predatory smile at him. ‘If you can spot me, who knows what can happen. It could be fun. A proper game of cat and mouse, that.’

They both knew who the cat would be in this particular scenario.

***

He visited the park each day looking for them desperately. It was Saturday. He started to realise by now that it might all be a ruse to make sure he’s properly invested in this whole game thing while they sat back at theirs and was probably laughing at him, doing God knows what in the meantime. Satan knows what. _Whatever_. What did Bee even do in their spare time? _Beelzebub_. He had promised, hadn’t he? He wasn’t very good at keeping that promise, it turned out.

I was near the end of his stroll through the park when he had already given up on meeting with them today and thinking he might indulge in spending a fortune on a designer suit to soothe his wounded ego when he sensed some Heavenly presences about. Deep down he prayed that they wouldn’t show up at this particular point in time since there were angels abroad. Judging by Murphy’s Laws this should be the exact precise moment that they would, by all means, show up. Gabriel didn’t know about Murphy’s laws but saw the entire thing as something that could happen to him because apparently God hated him, or something. Beelzebub didn’t believe in Murphy’s laws so therefore didn’t show up.

He let his senses spread in search of that particular angelic beacon.

It shone brightly form the café near the lake. _They_ shone. There were two of them.

_Could this be the equivalent of the demonic gang that Beelzebub had been so very casual about?_

_No matter_.

He felt them first and he was ready to take both of them, head on.

 _Why was he even thinking about his angelic brethren going down?_ They never acted like what Beelzebub described until now. There was no reason for him to fear the other angels. Was there? _No, Beelzebub was surely making a whole thing out of it._ Maybe they were trying to turn him against Heaven.

That made him sad for a reason. _I mean sure, they were a demon and all. But he really enjoyed their banter._ They had a charming smile even if it was also terrifying at times. Their last encounter had been particularly…hmm… _pleasant_. He did suppose it could have all been part of a ruse and couldn’t help but be a little disappointed in that. But if they just wanted to play him like a fiddle surely there were other ways. They wouldn’t have proposed weekly meetings. They wouldn’t have stopped what they were doing last Tuesday. They could have had him on his knees. _Would have_. And he was sure they were well aware of the fact. They wouldn’t have admitted to him of being terrified of the people from Downstairs. That showed at least a bit of… _trust?_

He needed to focus on the angels at the moment and take his mind off them or he would not be able to concentrate on the task at hand. And he needed to focus if other angels planed to discorporate him.

He looked around and spotted Raphael and Jophiel sitting at a small table near the lake and having tea.

They looked very out of place and drew attention to themselves like an elephant in a china shop. Even Gabriel wasn’t that obvious and, despite his very high self esteem, he _did_ know he didn’t exactly fit in on Earth all that well. Those two were basically waving neon-lit banners over their heads with how out of place they looked.

Raphael was looking like a stereotypical spy from all of those shit movies Gabriel had started watching to stave off his boredom. He had dark sunglasses and a form-fitting black suit. He even had a leather briefcase. Gabriel wondered if it would be full of exploding gum packages and poisonous ink pens if he were to open it. _Sure looked like it_.

Jophiel looked like something out of a 1960’s movie. She bore a red silk headscarf and a pair of cat-sunglasses as well. And she wore a polka dot dress with a matching red ribbon for a belt. And lace gloves. _Were they trying to take a page out of Aziraphale’s book about how to seem conspicuous as Hell_ , or what exactly were they doing?

‘What are you doing down here?’ he couldn’t help but frown at them, hands across his chest. He made a decision and he made it quick. Not even that much of a decision to start with. He needed to protect Bee no matter what her tricks and schemes were. And that meant having a lot less angels around.

‘Oh, Gabriel! What a pleasant surprise! And unexpected too. Very unexpected, isn’t that right, Raph?’ Jophiel exclaimed on a very loud tone. Even waved her hands about so as to make sure she gathered all of the attention she could.

The people at the tables around eyed the three warily.

‘Oh, yeah. Quite unexpected. We were just here minding out own business and we just happened to run into you. _Well_ , you ran into us,’ Raphael announced on an equally loud tone.

‘What the Hell is this?’

‘Oh how wonderful to run into each other like that. Completely unscripted too,’ Jophiel spoke loudly some more as she pushed back a chair and pointed at it for Gabriel to sit down, all smiles. He seemed reluctant. She lowered her sunglasses just a little and looked from him to the chair in a very definitive manner, lips pursed. He rolled his eyes and sat down.

‘Now listen here, you fucker,’ Raphael whispered through gritted teeth as he leaned in over the table, ‘I don’t like you and you don’t like me and that’s more than fine, but Michael seems to have gotten quite greedy with power back Upstairs. Anything that comes to mind so that we can stop her?’

‘Michael, you guys? Come on -’ Gabriel snorted and continued speaking on a normal tone of voice only to be shushed by Raphael’s murderous expression. _He could do murderous even while sporting sunglasses_ , the bastard.

At the same time Jophiel announced loudly that ‘Oh it’s so good and not at all planned to get to meet up with you, Gabriel!’ And then threw him another poignant look over the rim of her own glasses.

They were both giving him a Look™. _Ah, so impromptu meeting it was then_.

‘What is it?’ he hissed at Raphael. He let Jophiel off the hook for the time being. He liked Jophiel. She had the same impeccable style that he did. _Even more impeccable than his_ , a small voice ventured. He didn’t listen to that voice. _Beauty of God, indeed_.

Raphael, on the other hand, well, Raphael was a cunt.

‘What is it – he says after making out with a demon in a back-alley. It took all the favours Pravuil managed to score over the years for her to be able to delete that file.’

Gabriel stared. _Oh, shit_.

‘Yeah. People Upstairs are trying to help you out and you’re still being an absolute wanker about it.’

‘You listen here -’

‘No, you listen -’

‘Shut the fuck up, the both of you!’ Jophiel managed through gritted teeth.

They both stared at her.

‘We came down here for a reason. Michael wants to restructure our whole lot. There have been lots of talk of downgrading Seraphim and there are a few factions that already talk about open rebellion. One of them was caught red handed and _well_ …they haven’t treated them very well. You know how she always gets her way when she puts her mind to something. If the Fall is any indication, at least. Can you help out or not?’

‘She’s doing what exactly? Michael can’t possibly -’

‘She can’t, can she? Explain that to the ten Fallen angels whose wings have been cut off last week.’

‘ _WHAT?_ ’

‘Exactly, you idiot.’

‘Raphael, I swear -’

‘Shut it! The both of you. We’re already drawing attention.’

‘Well you were the one shouting earlier.’

‘Yeah, to get caught on the Archive files while I was being surprised to have run into you. _By. Accident_.’

‘Oh, _right_.’

‘I hate to agree with Raphael but you are an idiot at times.’

Gabriel opened his mouth to protest but then saw her expression and closed it again.

‘Hate to agree, _hah_ , as if. I’m always right about things,’ Raphael smirked.

This earned him a shoe to the shin. Even Gabriel winced thinking about the needle-thin heel on Jophiel’s stilettos.

‘I am done babysitting you two. Behave and maybe let’s come up with a plan, rather than petty insults, hmm?’

‘I don’t see how much help I can be. I’ve been ordered to stay down here,’ Gabriel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Wondered about it, actually. Well, here’s my explanation.’

‘Yeah, she doesn’t want you interfering.’

‘Not that you could do much, anyway. You lack the brain capacity.’

A warning look was thrown at Raphael that threatened with another heel kick under the table.

‘Fine, alright. We don’t know what to do either. We’ve tried speaking to the others – on the hush-hush, of course but we seem to get no real results. All of the papers are signed off by the Metatron so no one wants to budge. Well, there were some who did, but look what happened to them.’

‘The Principalities were our first thought, obviously – but Cerviel is scared shitless. Told us that he has no intention of getting court-martialed,’ Jophiel sighed. ‘The Seraphs were willing – they always hated Michael for some reason, but they’re the ones who have the most to fear. She’s dead set against them. And anyway, they’re made for singing praises and creating galaxies, they’re not made for war.’

‘War? Is it that serious?’

‘If Michael has it her way, then I guess not. Subservience and keeping your head down, more likely,’ Raphael managed through gritted teeth.

‘It can’t be that bad, can it?’

‘The Powers are out, the Dominions are out, the Virtues -’

‘The Virtues are cunts.’

‘Precisely. Therefore out.’

‘We only have Pravuil on our side for now. There’s just three of us. Four if you care to join us?’ the Archangel said and she sounded really hopeful.

‘What about the others?’

‘I'm a bit wary about contacting the other Archangels stationed in Heaven. I think they'll tell on us. As for the others, well, Ariel’s in Kenya at the moment. We’re planning on speaking with her next. But I don’t know how much help she’ll be. She hasn’t been back in Heaven for a while now and last time she checked in she said she’s just going to focus on the animals for a bit, screw Heaven, thank you very much,’ Raphael casually said as he inspected his fingernails. ‘Well, not in those words, you know Ari. She couldn’t swear for the life of her. Couldn’t even hurt a fly.’

‘Azrael is flying a bit under the radar at the moment and Chamuel will surely militate for peace.’

‘Which is surely the best thing to do,’ Gabriel offered.

‘Well, well, looky here, mister-I-threw-a-fit-when-Armagedon-has-been-averted.’

‘That was the Great War between Heaven and Hell! Our greatest sworn enemy! This is among ourselves – it’s not the same thing by a longshot!’

The irony about him actually thinking of discorporating two angels earlier to protect a certain Prince of Hell was completely lost on him.

Raphael’s smile widened as the cat that got the canary and pulled out a file from his leather briefcase. Gabriel wondered if it had poisoned edges or whatever other stupid stuff those people came up with in those movies. He opened it and stared. _No no, this was far more dangerous than that_.

He looked at them both, wide eyed and mouth agape.

‘I did say Pravuil deleted it from the records. I didn’t say that I haven’t made copies of it.’

He stared down at the pictures and fought his hardest not to throw up. _What exactly_ , he was still unsure of since the last gross matter he had ingested had been that cocktail five days ago.

‘And you mean to use this as…’

‘Insurance.’

‘This is blackmail, plain and simple.’

‘Don’t look at me, Gabriel,’ Jophiel said with a hurt expression. ‘I’m really not on-board with this but we do need you.’

The Powers that Be decided that this was the best possible moment for his phone to start ringing.

He only got calls from Upstairs nowadays so, on the one hand it made perfect sense to answer it or otherwise they would get funny ideas; on the other, this was the absolute worst moment his phone could ring. Ever. Then he realised it was not his Heaven-mandated phone but rather the Earthly one he had bought at that sleek looking place. The one with the apple on it.

He took it out and stared intently at the screen before deciding what to do. For some reason it buzzed slightly more than usual.

‘Go on then,’ Rapahel urged.

Gabriel picked up the phone.

‘ _Oh, hi there, you wanker. Was just thinking about our last meet up and thought to check up on you, maybe make some plans for…next time. Is this a bad time?_ ’

‘Not…ideal, no.’

Raphael took the phone from Gabriel’s limp hand and placed it near his ear.

‘Hello, Lord Beelzebub. A pleasure, as always. But, like darling Gabe over here said, not ideal timing. Cheers.’

He then placed the phone square in the middle of the table, his hand still hovering over it slightly.

‘So are you in or are you out?’

‘I…’ Gabriel stammered as he was looking down at the phone.

‘God! We don’t care if you shag a different demon every night, maybe have a lovely love affair with Lucifer himself, even. So do whatever you want with Beelzebub, it’s not even about that. It’s about what happens back home. In or out, Gabe?’

‘I…Lucifer’s gone…’ he said at a loss of anything else to say.

‘He’s _what_?’ Jophiel exclaimed and nearly shot up from her seat. ‘Oh, Raph, this is so much worse than we thought…’

‘I know. And this is why I need that answer, Gabriel,’ Raphael said as he waved the file about. ‘So, are you -’

‘In. In. I’m in.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do comment. I am insanely bored over here. Quarantine does that to you, I suppose.


	12. Heaven for everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lil' bit of Heaven. Of the break room variety.

‘What I don’t understand is why send Gabriel down there in the first place?’ Zaphiel asked as he blew in his cup of tea, took a sip and then proceeded to burn his tongue regardless. _It didn’t matter_. That thing would taste like wet cardboard either way.

‘What _I_ don’t understand is why we have to listen to bloody Michael! We’re the highest choir of angels, for crying out loud!’ Seraphiel added as she looked at Pravuil with a slightly raised eyebrow. 

She was the picture of divine grace, with long silvery flowing locks, the colour of moonlight itself and with deep blue eyes, so dark they resembled the deepest waters of the ocean. Or, _had_ been the picture of divine grace, up until two seconds ago when she sipped her coffee and scowled.

‘Who even brings this awful shite in?’ she added looking down at the mug with deep disgust. She was, _however_ , not the soundtrack of divine grace as she had a…let’s say… _colourful_ approach to language at the best of times.

‘That’s probably Cahethal. His lot is in charge of that,’ Zaphiel said on a reprobatory tone. It was probably about the swearing. _It tended more often than not to be about the swearing._

‘Mmmhm,’ Pravuil replied intelligently as she finished slurping over her cup of instant noodles.

‘Oh, and those look fucking disgusting, Pravie.’

They were all in the break room and pondering over the quality of the food and drinks. _Well, Zaphiel and Seraphiel were_ , at least. Pravuil liked her noodles well enough and she always had a vast supply of them around seeing as she was probably the only angel that actually thought them to be at all edible. And she did know better than to actually try the tea – pre-packaged; or the coffee -instant; so there was not much pondering going on her part.

She only shrugged in return with her brows knitted over in though at the previous questions. She looked at the two angels before her and wondered if she could trust them. But seeing as they were the ones most impacted by Michael’s sudden power-grab, she supposed she should try to, at least.

‘I think therein lies the problem,’ she said as she chewed on the noodles some more. Shrimp-flavoured. _Her favourite_. She would have been very sad were she to find out that those noodles had never seen a shrimp in their life, or even heard what those were, for that matter. And that they tasted nothing like shrimp to begin with.

‘With the noodles?’ Zaphiel asked, confused.

‘Not with the fucking noodles, _obviously_! I think she was talking about the... _you know_...important bits,’ Seraphiel scoffed some more as she poured her cup of coffee down the drain. ‘This tastes like sodding sewage water.’

‘I was. You’re both above Michael. In rank. But the Archangels always saw themselves as Lord and Master.’

‘That’s…um…dangerous talk,’ Zaphiel said as he bit his lip. He was the head of the Cherubim and all in all a wonderful chap, but awfully fretful at all times. He was dark blonde and had a mass of curls that would put most Renaissance painters to shame. _They damn well should_ since he was the inspiration material to begin with. And he was rather short and plump, as any proper Cherub should be. He was also very opinionated and had had, over the ages, a lot of debates with Pravuil herself. _Debates that she had lost most of the time_ , despite her superior knowledge. _He was just very convincing_ , that’s all. A lot of spats with Seraphiel as well seeing as they were both very _very_ bored. If the angels under your command are tasked with sitting around – or flying around, in Seraphiel’s case – God’s throne while singing Her praises, the fact that there’s no God around anymore sort of leaves you out of a job. A lot of time for mindless squabbles clears up on your calendar.

‘Listen, I didn’t mean to imply anything, I’ll leave you two be. I have things to do back in the Archives, anyway,’ Pravuil backpedalled as she knew she had put her foot in her mouth and this was better left unspoken.

Seraphiel snapped her fingers and the door of the break room swung closed with a loud thud. And then there was the click of a lock.

‘Sit your arse down, Pravie.’

‘Seraphiel, _really_? Again with the swearing?’

‘What? Saying ‘arse’? That’s a part of anatomy, not fucking swearing. _Well_ , that last bit was. But enough with your little consternations. You’ve known me for a long while. You know I swear. Bloody get used to it!’

She crossed her arms over her chest and threw a pointed look at one of the chairs.

‘Fine! _Sheesh_ , you would think one could leave an angel to finish their noodles in peace,’ Pravuil put the cup down on the counter-top and lifted her hands up in defeat. Then she went over to the table and threw herself down on one of the chairs with more force than actually necessary. 

‘ _So_?’

‘So what? You were the one with all the questions.’

‘Um...yeah, but you’re the one who actually gets to see those blasted Files. So spill it.’

She looked with apprehension at the two of them and took a moment to decide her next move.

 _Fuck it!_ – her brain provided as apparently all of her common sense decided to take a vacation on a tropical island or something.

‘Fine! They’re planning on making Gabriel Fall.’

‘Whatever the Hell for? I mean he’s a bloody sod, but that’s a bit harsh.’

‘I’m trying to figure it out myself. The official reason would probably be that he’s fr… _well_ , I’m sure they’ll think of something,’ she stopped herself short. She didn’t know how much trust she could put in the two. _You never knew that in Heaven these days_. She would also keep quiet about Raphael and Jophiel. She didn’t feel like incriminating more people if they planned to Fall her or anything. ‘I’m looking for the _real_ reason, though. And I tried going back in the logs as far as I could but there’s no mentions of the first Fall, you know? I find that highly suspicious.’

 _It was indeed suspicious_. She was the only angel with complete authority over the Archives even if she was just a Throne herself. But she should have had access to those files and didn’t. It looked like they never existed in the first place. Which had struck her as odd at first. _Something like that should definitely be recorded_. But then she dug up some more and it looked like they had been deleted. _Which was double odd since she would have remembered that, wouldn’t she?_

‘Yeah, that sounds fishy as fuck,’ Seraphiel commented with her hands firmly placed on her hips by now. She didn’t pay Zaphiel’s withering glare any mind.

‘Yes, I suppose it does,’ Zaphiel admitted looking slightly guilty. ‘It still doesn’t explain the absolute…travesty happening nowadays.’

 _Travesty_. Damn, she had them! _Both of them_. She had tried to find powerful allies for the last two months. She only got to Raph and Joph. And, _well_ , having both the rulers of the Seraphim and Cherubim on your side had to count for something.

She threw them a wide smile. They eyed each other with a slightly raised eyebrow and exchanged a very loaded look. Pravuil wondered if they went at it behind closed doors. _Most probably._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the meantime, go and give [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose) latest work a new read. [A Matter of Life and Death](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23306977/chapters/55823788) \- it's such a beautiful story with a wide array of lovely angels and wonderful worldbuilding. It's still early in the making but it's a very touching work.


	13. There must be more to life than this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For every bit of Heaven - we get a little bit of Hell

_Were those clouds? Was that…was that music?_

_They frowned for a bit and opened their eyes. Indeed they were perched atop a cloud. They could see angels with harps flying about like this was some damn day before creation itself. They had somehow been kidnapped and taken to Heaven. Except it all looked wrong. Nowadays it was all corporate bullshit and three-piece suits. While in this particular situation all of the angels were wearing long billowy robes._

_They looked down at themselves looking for anything they could brandish as a weapon before it was too late. They knew they carried a shiv carefully tuckered in a hidden pocket on their thigh. You could never be too careful surrounded by all of those bastards. They were -_ surprised _\- was putting it mildly, to realise there was not only no shiv but actually no tight leather trousers to begin with. They were instead clad in some silvery robes adorned with intricate patterns. They scowled. The silver patterns also covered their bare arms._ This was some bullshit _, right here._

_‘Hello there,’ they could hear a cheery voice behind them but when they turned around to tell whoever it was that spoke to sod off they only met kind, forget-me-not eyes and a wide smile._

_‘You looked lonely so I though I’d say hi. Not all of us have been assigned a proper function yet so I’ve been flying around making sure they don’t all despair before they get a position.’_

_They looked at the newcomer as sudden understanding seemed to wash over them._

Shit! _This was some damn day before creation itself._ Bugger them for a lark _, they must be dreaming! But they never dreamed._ First time for everything, huh _, they supposed. What with the failed Apocalypse and all of that._

_‘What is your name, Archangel? Mine’s Kokabiel.’_

_Their eyes must have been as wide as saucers. A shiver went down their spine._ This wasn’t right…an Archangel? Really? _They glanced down at their hands some more. Then they felt a sharp pain course through one of their temples as they struggled to reply to that question. As they struggled to remember._

_‘Vretiel,’ they said with a gasp. ‘Listen, is there something on my face?’_

_‘What can you possibly mean? Of course there is, silly! The marks of God's grace. They’re all silvery and rather lovely.’_

_‘Silvery. Right,_ right. _’_

_‘Is something the matter? I like my golden ones well enough but silver is just as nice.’_

_‘Yeah, right. That. Are my eyes all weird?’_

_‘What?’_

_‘Weird eyes?’_

_‘Um…in the manner that all eyes are weird…?’_

_‘Fangs then?’_

_‘What are you on about, Vretiel? You’re acting rather weird.’_

_‘Sharply filed teeth, hundreds of them.’_

_‘Wha- God no!’ the other angel raised her glance upwards and presented a small apologetic smile. ‘Sorry to disturb, God. Just taken by surprise, that’s all. You have the right amount of teeth,’ Kokabiel said as she started counting teeth on her fingers but gave up with another bright smile quick enough, ‘however many those should be.’_

_‘I need…I need a mirror.’_

_‘What are those?’_

_‘Huh, I supposed they haven’t been invented yet.’_

_‘You are an odd one, Vretiel, I’ll give you that. Take care. I’ll talk to you soon,’ Kokabiel said as she squeezed Vretiel’s shoulder with another bright smile._

***

Dagon woke up with a yelp. Although, _to be fair_ , that was more because their chair that they had been casually balancing on only two legs while their own feet were sitting crossed over the desk gave way under them. _While they were also taking a nap_. So that was entirely on them.

‘Fucking bollocks!’ they exclaimed as they massaged a sore bum and the back of their head that would surely have a swollen bump by tomorrow.

‘Need any help, m’lord?’

‘Fuck off, Eric. Do I need to put up a sign?’

‘What would be the point?’ Eric asked as he stuffed his face full of something gross-looking.

‘Do you mean to say you’ll ignore it or you won’t know how to properly read it?’

‘Hey, rude!’

Dagon scoffed as they got to their feet and threw Eric an off-putting look. _Or they hoped it looked off-putting._

Eric didn’t seem convinced as he sat cross-legged on a pile of what probably were a lot of form 9210-C’s.

Dagon would burn all of those if given the chance, but now Eric was dripping fat all over them.

And they had to at least look like they had some kind of authority. _Appearences sake_ , they supposed.

‘What are you even eating?’

‘Shawrma. It’s very good. You should try it.’

‘You’re dripping grease all over my files. Which you still haven’t organised properly.’

Eric moved not just his gaze, but his whole head in the direction of the bucket sitting in the corner of the room and raised an eyebrow. It was perched on a mountain of files and one of the pipes above it was constantly dripping in it making one of those constant background noises that you either got accustomed to or ran mad hearing it. It was like the Chinese drop, minus the fact that your suffering never got to end. Also it only took a limited amount of time for any victim to be driven insane by that particular torture method. Hell was eternal so the time was not at all that limited. Dagon just tuned it out. The other demons weren’t so skilled in doing that so they mostly left them and the Archives be. Eric just had a very short attention span so he didn’t mind it much so he came to pester them rather too often for Dagon’s liking. On the other hand, he was rather useful in organising the files, especially when there were ten of him around.

‘Yeah, that’s just how things are, I can’t just go to the Dark Council and ask them to fix the pipes, now can I?’

_Although not for lack of trying. There have been quite a lot of memos. They were all sitting in a box on one of the desks._

‘I can however tell you to stop eating that disgusting shit in my Archives. And take your feet off the bloody desk,’ they said as they swatted at his feet.

‘ _Hey_ , you were doing the same thing earlier!’

‘ _My_ Archives. _My_ files. I treat them however I want to, and, for the last time, stop eating that!’

Eric grinned at them and stuffed his face full of the rest the offending roll. Some more grease dripped on the files.

Dagon sighed and snapped their fingers.

‘ _Oh, not fai_ -’ Eric was silenced as he was engulfed in Hellfire.

Dagon sighed again, this time a little more content and made their way to the coffeemaker in the backroom that didn’t work more often than not, and, even when it did, it required a couple of hard smacks and it only served something resembling mud-water. _Eh_ , they were used to it by now.

They started pondering over the dream. _Was it a dream? A memory? Bit of both?_ That angel seemed very friendly. And they had felt an electric current through their whole body when she touched their shoulder.

_How did they remember their name? Was it even their real name? Was it a delusion?_

They brought down their fist a couple of times on the antique coffee-menace and it rumbled into action. Which was to say it started dripping some sludge a drop a minute. _Not like they had anything better to do than wait for whatever it desired to serve today._ Last time it had wobbled a bit in the mug and you had to scoop it out with a spoon. The time before that it had looked like the bottom of a diner frying pan at the end of a very busy week. _You never knew what you were going to get_.

‘Hey, boss, I was thinking -’ a chipper looking Eric appeared in the doorway.

_Was there no end to this suffering?_

_Well, of course there wasn’t. This was Hell._

‘For the last time, you twat, I am not your boss. And didn’t I just fry you right now? They must be getting awfully sloppy in the Allotment Department these days. It used to take two weeks to fill all the forms.’

‘Oh, that must be another Eric. Let me check,’ he said as he pulled out a grubby looking flip-phone. ‘Oh, yeah. That’s Eric 57.’

‘How many of you are there?’

‘Dunno since lord Hastur seems to fry a lot of us whenever he feels like it. Let’s check. Huh, 374 at the moment, it seems.’

‘And you all come to annoy me.’

‘Well, you’re the boss.’

‘I am _not_ the boss. I might have asked some of you once or twice to organise the files. That’s it.’

Eric propped himself up on the backroom counter and opened a paper bag.

‘What is _that_?’

‘Oh, it’s this glorious human invention. Burgers they are called. This is apparently a bacon deep fried one. Sounds delicious,’ Eric commented gleefully as he dug in.

Even more grease. Dagon snapped their fingers again.

‘ _Oh,come o-_ ’

They smiled with their hundred teeth as they fried the second Eric for the day and, cup of “coffee” in one hand, stale crumpet in the other, they made their way back to their desk and settled on their chair balancing it on two legs yet again. _They never learned, did they?_

Then they picked up one of the latest memos from DC and perused it with a scowl. It’s quite an intriguing, if not horrifying, picture to imagine someone in possession of as many teeth as Dagon actually had while scowling. _On second thought, we'd better not try that at all._


	14. Don't stop me now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have some more Bee and Gabe random stuff because well...this is a Bee and Gabe fic, innit?

‘Fuck!’ Beelzebub yelled and they threw their phone down as if the mere touch burned their hand. Like something Holy. ‘ _Fuck!_ Aaaaargh!’

They had just wanted to rile the Archangel up. Tease him a little. _Keep the pot warm, so to speak_. And they had been rather bored. _Insanely bored, who were they kidding_. Being an immortal entity with a lot of time on your hands does that to you. Especially if you’re alone on Earth.

 _And Gabriel was being okay-ish enough_. In the way that any angel could be okay to a demon. _That’s how it started, at least_. But then the stupid oaf started growing on them. It was copious fun to press his buttons. And he wasn’t too bad to look at. And, for some reason, he seemed to care about their well-being. There was no-one aside from Dagon who ever cared about them.

They hadn’t planned on speaking to any other angels, though. Had no intention to be dragged in Heaven’s drama since they had their hands full with the one in Hell at the moment. _Who even was that? He sounded like a proper snob. Did their little fraternising put Gabriel at risk too? Were they selfish for permitting it to go on in the first place?_ They wanted to call him back but feared that would do more harm than good. So they fretted for a bit and then paced for an even longer bit.

 _Why were they even worrying about the sod?_ He was an Archangel. Natural born enemy and all that jazz. They would have fought to the death four months ago. _Should have_. But they had only spoken to him maybe two times in the last 6000 years and always in an official capacity. They had spoken to him more than ten times in the last four months. And did some lewd things in a back alley in Whitechapel. There was that as well. _That had been nice. Okay,_ not _nice_ , since demons didn’t do nice. _Hmm, sinful_. That was it. And he seemed so familiar somehow…

Their phone rang.

‘Are you okay?’ they could hear Gabriel’s voice from the receiver.

‘Am I….you… _WHAT_? Are _you_ , you tosser? What even _was_ that? And how do they know I was the one calling?’

‘That was Raphael -’

‘He sounds like an even bigger wanker than you.’

Gabriel snorted. _At least they were on the same page about something._ He didn’t even care about being called a wanker if Raphael was the bigger one. But then he let his insane amounts of hatred towards Raphael pass and veered his thoughts towards the situation at hand. _Which was rather dire._

‘They know because they checked the Archives for some reason. And our little back alley… _whatever that was_ is now sitting in a file in Raphael’s bloody briefcase.’

‘No. No _no_. You don’t get to go and point fingers about that. You were quite a willing participant, as I seem to recall. I didn’t force you into anything.’

‘No, didn’t force me. _Tempted_ , more like.’

‘Oh…I see. This is how we’re playing it, huh?’ they bit the inside of their cheek so hard that they drew blood to keep themself from screaming. They felt the buzz coming and there was no stopping it.

‘Fine then. Be that way. And here I wazzz actually worried for you for a zecond there. Truzzzt me there’s no more tempting you into _“whatever that was”_ coming from me. Wish you a shit rezzzt of Eternity. And, just so you know, people don’t uzzzually give in to temptation like that if they don’t want it in the first place. Zzzo fuck off, wank-wing-’

‘Wait! _Wait_ , please! I didn’t mean it like that! I really didn’t. I just meant we’d have to be careful. I’m not sure why they’re keeping tabs on you and I’d hate for something bad to happen to you that’s all. And if they think a demon tempted me…I don’t know what would happen to you.’

‘Would probably get a commendation out of my lot,’ they said bitterly although they both knew that wasn’t true. ‘How about you, then?’

The bitter and angry tone was still there but at least they hadn’t hung up the phone.

‘I’ll be just fine. I’m Archangel Gabriel. What can they possibly do to me? _Hah_.’

They both knew that there were many things that could be done to him, but failed to comment on that too.

There was a pause.

‘So can we meet up, please? Somewhere private. Or…well-hidden?’

‘Yeah, whatever. I know a place. I’ll text you the address. I’ll get there at eight. Make sure you arrive at at least eight thirty.’

‘Um, yeah, sure. Whatever you say.’

‘Good,’ they added a bit too harshly and hung up the phone.

***

It was twenty minutes past eight and Gabriel made his way down the narrow staircase into what he could only assume to be a… _club - was that what they called them?_ And then - having to try and navigate through a crowd of people who seemed a bit too inebriated, judging by the early hour, at least - he took a look around the booths on the far side looking for Beelzebub.

‘Over here, you sod.’

He was happy to be called out despite the choice of name since he wouldn’t have spotted them in the dim-lit room otherwise. They were dressed all in black, _of course they was_ , but they sported a loose-fitting hoodie and had the hood drawn over their head. They also wore large ripped jeans and the fishnet stockings that he considered brand-book Beelzebub, by now. And the whole ensemble was all tied together by a large pair of fly sunglasses that covered more than half their face. This look was a bit more familiar to him than those suits had been and he found it slightly endearing. It was very them. _What? Endearing? Get a grip on yourself!_

‘I swear by Satan’s balls that you aren’t even trying,’ they sighed as they pointed their hand at his clothes. ‘Coming into a club, dressed like that. Could you be any more obvious? Not to mention it’s twenty past. What did I _specifically_ tell you?’

‘Well, I’m sorry. I got here sooner than I thought.’

The fact that the reason behind that had been that he wanted to make sure nothing had happened to them was never mentioned in the conversation.

‘Well, you’re here now. Sit down.’

He sat down. And then looked at them waiting for them to say something more _. Anything, really_.

They didn’t.

‘I always wondered about that, you know,’ he said as he fiddled with one of the coasters on the table. It was sticky. It didn’t matter since he wanted to keep his hands occupied.

‘Bout what?’

‘That expression. Satan’s balls. A very specific thing to be mentioning. Always stuck me as odd.’

‘Oh. That was a rather dull day on the job. And Lucifer was being a cunt and we though let’s bring him down a peg. Just sort of happened, I suppose. He was very pissed about it when it started taking over here as well. Sulked for a year. Hah. We’re very good at annoying the shit out of each other down there.’

‘I bet you are. Comes with the job, really.’

They threw him a withering look but quickly realised that was a bit lost on him, what with the sunglasses and all. They couldn’t make out if he meant it as an insult or a compliment.

‘So. Care to tell me what we’re doing? What this is? Why the fuck I’m being figured in Heaven’s Records and especially since when is some sod called Raphael with an even bigger stick shoved up his arse than you picking up your phone calls and hanging up the phone on me?’

‘Well….remember when I told you Michael told me to stay down here for my own good?’

‘Yeah, that’s a bit on the nose. Michael never gave a shit about anyone else rather than herself. Cared about everything else but herself maybe a bit less than the dirt under her pinkie finger. Not that there would be any dirt there.’

‘Why are you so set up on Michael? Do you even remember her at all? You said you didn’t…’

‘No need to rub it in, you git,’ Beelzebub said as they crossed their hands over their chest and started staring at the ceiling. ‘Just a gut feeling, I suppose. I don’t trust her. Not that I go on trusting many angels in general.’

‘It seems your gut feeling was right, then. Raphael and Jophiel approached me to tell me she is getting a bit power hungry. And quite a lot of little rebellions are quenched all around. And they asked for my help.’

‘So why do they have a picture with us, then? If they want you to help them.’

‘Insurance.’

‘You mean extortion.’

‘I…I guess, yeah.’

‘Aren’t you all a lovely bunch. Have half a mind to introduce you to that cumstain Samael. You’d all hit it along like a house on fire. Angels resorting to extortion. Fancy that. What next, demons preventing -’

They stopped themself short and started laughing hysterically.

‘Guess that happened already, huh?’

‘Yeah, well, nothing is at it should be anymore. Seraphs and Cherubs are personally called out. And I have to stay down here. Probably a bit of a threat. Or at least that’s what Michael seems to think, according to Raphael.’

‘And you trust the bastard? After pulling that shit on you? You’re even dafter than I thought.’

‘I don’t trust him, of course I don’t! But I trust Joph. And they did have Pravuil pull that out of the Archives.’

‘So what you’re saying is that Michael and all the others have no idea about all this? It’s just two measly angels out of the whole bunch? I can summon Hellfire, you _are_ aware?’

‘What are you… _no_! We ain't doing that!’

‘What? It’ll solve all our problems.’

‘No! That’s....no!’

Beelzebub threw him a Look™.

‘You were of a _very_ different opinion four months ago.’

‘Well…I…I guess I was wrong, now wasn't I? Didn't the whole thing prove me wrong? And plus, spending time down here proved quite…insightful.’

‘Do tell.’

‘Well, this humanity thing grew on me. The clothes are nice. And so are the devices. And well…maybe I was a bit too rash about Aziraphale. He got to experience all of it for quite a long time. No wonder he wanted to preserve it. After the last four months spent down here I can say I sympathise with caring about the Earth and doing what he can to keep it going.’ Caring about certain demons was very much left out of the equation.

‘Funny you should say that.’

‘Is it?’

‘Figure of speech. Guess I feel the same about the bit. And maybe those traitorous shits were right all along, eh? Big G would have intervened if She wanted it to end, wouldn’t She?’

‘I guess? I don’t know anymore, Bee. Nothing is as it should be.’

‘Oooh, are you questioning God, Gabe? How naughty of you,’ they drawled with a smirk.

‘I’m not…I don’t know. I…this is all so messed up. What am I even doing sitting in a nightclub across from a demon to begin with?’

‘Well, as I seem to recall it, it was you who came up with the invitation for a start. You can get up and leave at any time, no one’s forcing you to stay here if you find the company so abhorrent.’

‘That’t the thing. I don’t. Don’t know why, but I really don’t. It was me each and every time that reached out to you in the park. Why did I do that?’

‘Can’t answer that question for you, now can I? So what are we doing, now that you developed a moral fibre?’

‘I’ll go along with their plan, I think. But I really don’t want that to stop us from meeting up. We would have to keep it a secret, though.’

Beelzebub’s face was expressionless behind their huge sunglasses but Gabriel realised that something he had said had been something very _very_ wrong judging by the set of their jaw.

They drummed their fingers on the table as they seemed to make up their mind about something.

‘Well then. As I was saying, have a shit rest of Eternity. I’m not waiting around to be doused in a bucket of Holy Water for some secret meetings with you in dimly lit clubs. It’s been…not awfully nice knowing you. Since you’re a total wanker. I’m off.’

‘What do you mean _off_?’ he grabbed their hand as they got up from the table. _He should definitely stop doing that._

‘I mean I’m not risking my skin only for me to be a dirty little secret and you to be too much of a wuss to actually do anything about the people who tried to blackmail you into saying yes to opposing Michael. Not that she shouldn’t be opposed. She’s a cunt. But still. Maybe I’ll take on video games. Drinking was always a laugh. Let _go_ , Gabe.’

He looked down at their hand and for the first time didn’t fight the urge to keep his hand clasped tightly around it.

_Was this a good idea?_

_No, probably not._

But then again Gabriel had never been known to have very bright ideas to begin with.

He looked at their hand some more and gave a hard tug. That resulted in them falling in his lap.

‘Wha -’ Beelzebub started to protest but was quickly silenced by an Archangel kissing them while, with a snap of his fingers, he made sure they weren’t the talk of the entire club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do leave a comment - this is the fourth week I'm spending indoors and frankly it gets a bit lonely here.


	15. One Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to have more backstory and dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you, [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose), you are a blast

Crowley made sure the last one of the crates was being carefully – _oi there, carefully, I said_ – loaded off in the entrance hallway and then made sure to tip the delivery men handsomely. He threw another proud look to the outside of the cottage and stepped inside to see what Aziraphale was doing. Judging by the fact that Gertie had said she popped over just to see them both settled in, he had a fair inkling as to what was going on inside. She seemed the inquisitive type of old granny. _Not that there was any other kind._

_It involved tea and biscuits, most probably. And some gossip concerning him, certainly._

He made his way to the kitchen only to be met with the expected mental picture.

Aziraphale was perched on a wooden stool and making appreciative noises while nibbling on some vanilla shortbread. A fancy looking porcelain teacup - saucer and all - was sitting in front of him. _Fancy set, eh Gertie?_ _Puling out the big guns_ , it seemed. And judging by her sly smile the whole setup did have the desired effect.

‘Hello, darling. Is everything taken care of?’

‘All the boxes unloaded. Carefully, yes,’ he added as he saw the angel open his mouth in protest. ‘How about you two? What have you been up to?’

‘Oh, we were just talking about you,’ Gertie said, her smile flashing a bit wider.

‘You don’t say.’

‘Mrs. Gertrude here was just inquiring about how we met.’

‘I told you to call me Gertie, my dear.’

_Oh, for Satan’s sake, they were going to ambush him with the ‘dear’ on both fronts._

‘And what did you tell her, angel,’ he smirked at Aziraphale and leaned over the kitchen island to steal a piece of shortbread to the angel’s obvious displeasure.

‘Oh, you know, the usual. That I was on apple tree duty and you came by and thwarted me like the proper foul fiend you are.’

‘Is that so, angel? Gertie, what do you make of that?’ Crowley gave them a toothy smile that was altogether demonic in nature and turned his gaze to the old lady.

‘Oh, I thought it some euphemism or other. Never know what’s the proper lingo for those kinds of things nowadays what with you youngsters always inventing new ones,’ she waved a hand dismissingly.

Crowley burst out laughing while Aziraphale choked on some shortbread.

‘I was ever the gentleman, Gertie, let me tell you that,’ Crowley drawled while he inched his own stool closer towards her. ‘Took me what felt like 6000 years to proposition the darling angel.’

_If Aziraphale wanted to embarrass him, well then, he had some retaliation to do._

‘I think, if you’ll remember correctly, it was me that propositioned you, darling,’ Aziraphale offered with a faux innocent smile.

_Oh right, two could play at this game._

If the angel wanted to be blushing before quaint old ladies so be it.

‘We are talking sex right now, no?’

‘What? _No!_ Absolutely not!’

‘Really?’ Gertie asked with the slightly miffed expression any old lady that didn’t get that particularly juicy gossip that she had been expecting would bear.

‘Well, that’s what _I_ was talking about,’ Crowley supplied.

Gertie eyed him with a cheeky glint in her eye and an ever so fond slight shake of her head.

‘You two are wonderful together. I couldn’t imagine anyone better getting to live in my cottage.’

‘Thank you, Mrs. Gertrude,’ Aziraphale said.

‘No one? Now come on Gertie, I was just trying to be explicit about ravishing the angel.’

‘Crowley!’

‘I have four kids, dear. I don’t think there’s much that your partner can say to me that might shock me,’ Gertrude got up and patted Aziraphale’s shoulder.

It was Crowley’s turn to choke, this time on thin air.

_Ah, the ball was in Aziraphale’s court yet again._

‘Hear that, darling?’

‘Shut it.’

Gertrude was obviously realising what she was doing, peering at them both over her half-moon spectacles with a very hard to read expression.

‘Anyway, I’d better be going, leave you two boys to it.’

She made her way towards Crowley and patted his shoulder as well.

‘You take good care of your young man, you hear.’

‘Oh, I intend too,’ Crowley grinned wickedly.

‘Well, I think you’ll enjoy the house very much then, what with the nearest neighbours being miles away.’

They both stared at the brazen old lady, mouths agape as she waved a little polite old-lady wave at them that had no business following a remark like that and was off.

‘Well, that was something,’ Crowley eyed Aziraphale and shrugged.

***

_He was sitting on the edge of a cloud, knees to his chest while one of his arms was draped around them. The other was conjuring pebbles from the Ether and throwing them down randomly._

_‘What are you doing?’ the other angel asked, as she landed down on the cloud and sat down next to him._

_‘Nothing much, just…you know…’ he waved his arm about at nothing in particular._

_She looked down from the clouds to the Garden where they were still struggling to build things from scratch._

_She followed his very obviously targeted gaze to another angel working down below. He knew for sure it must have been another angel but all he could sense was brightness. He was also smiling quite widely and unabashedly, not giving two shits about her looking at him and taking it all in._

_She chanced moving just a tad nearer and elbowing him in the ribs._

_‘Ow! What that was that for?’_

_‘You’re ogling that angel, you know?’_

_‘I most certainly am not!’_

_‘Riiight.’_

_‘Shut up!’_

_‘I never said anything!’_

_‘You know what I mean!’_

_‘I haven’t the faintest.’_

_He rolled his eyes at her and continued to stare some more at the bright angel._

_‘Do you think he would mind terribly if I spoke to him?’_

_‘Why would he mind? You’re delightful.’_

_This time it was his turn to elbow her in the ribs._

_‘I really don’t understand why you don’t go and talk to him,’ he could feel forget-me-not eyes boring into his very soul. He couldn’t remember her name. Still couldn’t remember his own either. But he did remember_ her _. Parts of him did. She had the warmest smile. And the most mischievous one as well. Not that they had a word for that at the time being._

_‘I…’_

_The other angel shifted her attention from him and got up to wave someone over._

_‘Luce!’ she called out, hands cupped around her mouth._

_His breath caught. Or it would have if he had ever needed to breathe. A shiver went down his spine._

No, it couldn’t be…

 _But as soon as the cloud dipped yet again and he turned to face the newcomer he found out that it damn well could._ And ‘damn’ was a very frowned upon term back then _._

_He was facing the Morningstar himself._

_That face was familiar. Lucifer hadn’t changed much after the Fall. He was still blond and blue-eyed and looked positively divine. Which was uncanny in the underbelly of Hell. He also bore his signature smile – smile that he had seen on so many occasions that he couldn’t be bothered to count. Always Downstairs, though. He had never spotted that look on his face before the Fall. Then again, he didn’t remember much from Before, now did he? So, this was how Lucifer used to smile back in Heaven, as well?_ No wonder he Fell. _That smile promised nothing good. It was altogether too knowing._

_Not big on knowing stuff, people from Up high._

_The only real difference was that he used to wear his hair long back in the day, fact that had changed over the years according with the latest human fashions. If he thought of himself as being prideful, then Lucifer was vain-central._

_He was the most angelic being that he had ever laid eyes on. Long blonde locks and porcelain skin and features so perfect they would make a nun have just a little bit of doubt about what was good and proper. This was ironic and hilarious at the same time, considering all of those paintings and statues. Whenever someone wanted to portray divine grace, they portrayed the complete opposite without knowing so._ Current-day him nearly snorted.

 _That was not to say that this chance encounter didn’t mean the world to him. He was remembering stuff._ Possibly. _He didn’t think this was how memories worked but was grateful regardless of any of that._

 _For angel-him, all of those millennia ago, it didn’t mean much. Just another co-worker. Peer reviews at the end of the month and all. Rating some of his nebulae. Giving some wholehearted congratulations on some of the stars._ _For nowadays not-so-much-an-angel him it meant everything. And he had no idea how this memory business worked but he was convinced that he perceived everything through his nowadays subconscious and trying to explain everything that went on back then to his present himself. It all seemed rather…_ ineffable _._

_‘Oh, darling, whatever has you so upset?’ Lucifer smiled widely at him and then stroked the other angel’s shoulder. ‘You minx, you. What is it this time?’_

_‘Maybe you can put more sense into him than I can,’ she said tilting her head towards the Garden._

_‘Oh, how splendid, darling,’ Lucifer said as his smile somehow got even wider against all physical laws. ‘You found yourself another angel. Lovely.’_

_He tried to splutter something but came up short. He was hyperventilating, of that he was sure._

***

Crowley almost jumped out of bed upon waking up and it took him some long minutes to get his breathing in check.

He patted the other side of the bed desperately and found it empty. Then he tried extending his demonic powers to feel Aziraphale’s presence, panic already in place. _Oh, he was just in the kitchen_. He let his back fall down on the pillows once more and took another deep breath before gathering his wits about him and going downstairs.

When he reached the kitchen, the angel lifted his eyes from the book currently in his lap and smiled brightly at him. There was something deeper in that smile. _Hungrier._

_He didn’t have any time for that._

‘Oh, you tempter, you,’ Aziraphale whispered on a breathy and at the same time suggestive tone of voice.

Crowley looked down at himself and he realised that he was only clad in boxers at the moment.

_Well, dreaming about Satan himself in angel form probably was something worthwhile enough to make you forget about putting on proper clothes._

‘Listen, angel -’

‘Gertie was right you know? About the neighbours? Would be a pity if we had any of those. Judging by last night at least. We would have a lot of noise complaints on our hands,’ the angel smirked, wickedly.

If it weren’t for the dream, that line and that line alone would have made Crowley forget about everything else and defile their kitchen island right this very minute.

He was a bit high-strung, though.

‘Angel, it happened again. The dreams.’

Aziraphale’s expression changed instantly and he was by Crowley’s side in a matter of seconds.

‘Darling, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please tell me,’ he said as he gathered Crowley in his arms.

‘It was Lucifer this time.’

‘I’m here for you. If ever you want to talk about it.’

‘I…do. I…think?’ he rubbed at his eyes and sighed deeply. ‘There was never someone else other than you. You are my everything, angel. So why now? Why show all of this to me now? I imagine some foul play at work here.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Whenever I dreamt before, I only dreamt of you. And now I have all these other angels crowding my mind. I don’t know what to make of it.’

‘Dear boy, let’s get settled on the couch. It’s still too early for you. It isn’t even 4am. And I’ll stay by your side the entire time to make sure nothing bad happens.’

‘That sounds wonderful, angel.’

***

_‘I don’t like it.’_

_‘What?’_

_‘The fact that we can’t form our own opinions.’_

_Crowley –_ and he could feel that he was Crowley and not whatever his angel persona was at the time _\- turned his head around and actively stopped staring at the fair angel in the Garden for just a second._

_Lucifer noticed how his gaze seemed to linger._

_‘This. All of this. It feels wrong. You have your angel, sweetie,’ he said as he eyed the other Seraph. ‘And you are prone to stare quite a bit at your own angel, darling. Why should this be forbidden? It’s clearly love. We are made to be creatures of love, are we not?’_

_‘I think it’s a bunch of bollocks, honestly,’ the dark-haired angel sitting to his left replied while checking his fingernails._

_‘How so, Samkiel?’ Lucifer asked, his interest now piqued._

_‘Well it’s obviously love for all things. Generic. Not supposed to be focused on one being in particular. That taints it.’_

_Samkiel had dark brown hair caught up in a low ponytail and moss-green eyes. He seemed bored and didn’t have a very angelic attitude all-around._

_‘That is indeed…bollocks. I don’t have my eyes set on any angel. But those two obviously do,’ Lucifer pointed in his general direction, ‘And I plan to ask about that. Why is that frowned upon? Love is love. It should be celebrated.’_

_The blonde angel smiled._

_He himself stammered._

_‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said._

_‘Please, darling. It’s very fucking obvious.’_

_‘Yeah, and a bit stupid, just talk to the sod,’ Samkiel added._

_‘I…um…’_

_‘Oh, do shut up. You’re a coward. Doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s the principle of the thing. Are we supposed to feel the same way about…clouds as we feel about each other? How about the new creations._ Humans _, they said they’re calling them. Are we supposed to love them the same way as well? Do you think they are allowed to feel any different? To love things differently?’_

_‘That would be unfair,’ the blonde angel commented, thinking of her own angel._

_‘God’s greatest creation, I heard someone call them,’ Samkiel commented._

_He threw Samkiel a shocked expression while Lucifer gasped._

_‘What? No. We are God’s greatest. They don’t live near enough to be perfect. And they need to do tons of things that we can live without. How in Heaven are they the greatest?’_

_Lucifer looked at Samkiel with a raised eyebrow. Samkiel didn’t seem very affected by the glare. He inspected his fingernails some more. He was lounging on a slightly raised part of that particular cloud that made him look like he was sitting on one of the most comfortable lounge chairs in existence._

_The cloud they were perched on was big enough to accommodate a lounging Samkiel, a cross-legged blonde Seraph, himself while his feet were dangling over the edge and Lucifer who paced furiously._

_‘I think this is very wrong.’_

_‘It doesn’t matter what you think, Luce, that’s just how things are.’_

_‘Why doesn’t it matter, though? Are we not allowed to have opinions?’_

_‘I do believe we aren’t,’ Samkiel said with the same bored voice one would use to remark upon the weather._

_‘That’s not very sporting,’ he heard himself say while glancing down some more._

_‘Good of you to join the conversation, darling. And it isn’t. I think I will have some words with someone about that’_

***

‘My dear, it’s alright,’ Aziraphale whispered as he stroked his auburn curls.

Crowley’s breath was ragged.

They were both on the couch in the middle of the living room and his head was in Aziraphale’s lap.

‘There was another one. I don’t think I can control them at all. And I think I saw someone else I know. From Downstairs.’

Aziraphale flinched.

‘Yeah, that was the reaction I was hoping for. That’s the reaction I had myself.’

‘What do you think it means, dearest?’

‘That we have to pay someone a visit.’

‘Hmm?’

‘Are you up for a trip to Tadfield?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some behind the scenes smut in the next chapter so if you aren't up for that just let it be.


	16. Need your loving tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bee and Gabe get to know each other. Biblically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you, [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose) \- you are a marvel!

Beelzebub found themself pushing Gabriel into one of those unisex bathroom stalls that only meant they were two times more likely to get found out and thrice as likely to get some infection or venereal disease.

He snapped his fingers and the stall was pristine. It probably hadn’t been that clean even before they opened the club.

‘ _Oooh_ , you like it prim and proper, don’t you, angel?’

Gabriel bit his lip and shook his head.

‘Good. You’ll never get that from a Prince of Hell.’

He gulped.

They also snapped their fingers and suddenly the outside noise was all but muffled.

Gabriel threw them an inquisitive look. Or, what would have been an inquisitive look, was his face not bright pink and had desire painted all over it.

‘I want to make you scream, Archangel. And I don’t share my spoils with anyone. You are mine tonight. Mine _alone_.’

He nodded vehemently and tried to rid Beelzebub of their hoodie.

‘Nahah. You first. _Strip_.’

‘Mmmhm.’

‘Atta boy,’ they grinned with longer incisors than humanly possible as they took in the image of an Archangel of the Fucking Host doing a striptease number inside a sleazy nightclub’s bathroom stall especially for them.

Once they were content with the tableau in front of them, they pushed him ever so slightly.

‘Sit.’

He took a step back and nearly stumbled, landing on the toilet seat that was not only brand new but Villeroy & Boch for whatever reason.

They got rid of their large sunglasses and pulled the hoodie over their head leaving them naked from the waist up.

His eyes roamed over their body with a hunger that was hard to mistake for anything else.

He tried grabbing their hips and his hands were swatted in a not very delicate manner.

‘Nahah, no touching.’

They started to shimmy out of her jeans while Gabriel clasped his hands together, knuckles almost white for fear of doing something he’d regret.

‘Damn, this is hard,’ he muttered through gritted teeth.

They threw him an amused look and then very pointedly lowered that look.

‘Not yet but there’s hope for you still.’

He made an indiscernible noise at the back of his throat and made to grab one of their hands as they was preparing to take off their knee-length fish-net stockings.

‘Leave those on. And the boots.’

Said boots shone. And had spikes on them.

‘Naughty, Archangel. Very well. But I _did_ say about the not touching bit, no?’ they asked innocently as they tilted they head to one side.

He nodded and his hands were in his lap yet again.

‘That’s what I thought.’

They slapped his face with the back of their hand so hard they would have probably dislocated his mandible were he human.

‘Now that we got that over with – what do we do when given instructions?’

‘Obey?’

‘There’s a _good_ angel. Although I have to admit I feel a naughty streak in you. It’s almost as if you want to be punished.’

Gabriel shook so much he almost vibrated.

‘That’s an interesting thing to explore. _Another time_ ,’ she added as they sat down on his thighs and wrapped their arms around his neck.

‘Show me a good time, why don’t you, wank-wings.’

***

It was an hour and a half later that two people – or, _at least_ , people shaped entities - stepped out from a bathroom stall and got some raised eyebrows from the three people washing or drying their hands. Their expressions instantly turned blank with a snap of fingers.

‘So, lover boy, same time on Tuesday?’

All he could do was nod and hum at them with a very dazed expression on his face.

‘I’m not saying it wasn’t alright but I really don’t want to deal with this, whatever this is every time after we shag.’

He nodded some more.

‘And since you want to keep this a sordid little secret, as you have pointed out earlier, I really do expect you to be more responsive afterwards. Otherwise, there’s tons of sex-shops around. If I just want something that hums after I get off.’

It took him some moments to register their last remark.

‘What can I say, Bee, you make me absolutely stupid.’

‘Nah, you were stupid to begin with. Tuesday, 8pm?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Wait half an hour and then leave, yeah?’

‘Shouldn’t be difficult. I can’t feel my legs.’

‘ _Good._ ’

***

The next Tuesday the list of miracles had to be just a tad longer. Aside the pristine stall and the sound bubble they also had to reconstruct the adjacent stall walls as Gabriel’s wings popped out at some point and nearly demolished the whole ensemble and as the top of the laminate door had been first dented and then ripped apart by strong demonic claws.

The next meeting after that had been in a motel. The other ten after still in the same motel. It lost its charm at some point, _not that it had a lot to begin with_.

Then another motel. And another.

They didn’t feel safe staying in the same place for too long. Not with both sides keeping their eyes on them.

After all of their encounters Gabriel found himself bearing more bite-marks than he could properly explain _. No._ He couldn’t explain any single one of them. It was a blessing in disguise that he was known for sporting turtlenecks even before this… _whatever this was_ …started.

Beelzebub had dark bruises that resembled finger indents (to the trained eye) all over their body but there were some that gave them a particular hard time when they sat down. They cherished them like a well-deserved prize.

 _So, what if they were Gabriel’s sordid little secret?_ He was theirs as well. Neither of their respective sides wanted or expected this to happen and they were feeling just a little bit contrary at the moment. Not to mention that that bastard had the body of a god. _And, honestly, impressive stamina_. Dagon would be jealous. They missed Dagon. They missed a lot of the things Downstairs. Not all of it, _obviously,_ but still, it had been what they had thought of as home for the last 6000 years.

Soon enough they’d have to give the pretty - _and honestly thick_ – angel up and go back there and face the music.

The music in question might have as well been “Cats” or “Evita” or even…uuurgh “School of Rock”.

But, for now, they really enjoyed the sex and – _honestly_ – the big middle finger to Headoffice.

There was one thing though. One thing that had them confused, sad and annoyed at the same time.

Whenever his hands would roam all over their body, they would feel like they knew that touch. Like it was familiar and calming and loving in a way that they had never felt any touch before to be.

Whenever he would moan and grunt and recite endearments in their ear, it would feel like home. _Even if he got quite the spank after each and every endearment_. It still lit a fire inside them that they had no idea how to quench. It felt proper. Like things should be. _Like things had always been_. And that made them angry. _No_. Not angry. _Furious._

Angels didn’t love demons and demons didn’t feel love, so they got that out of the picture soon enough.

On the other hand, angels weren’t supposed to lust over demons. And they certainly weren’t supposed to screw them silly in a sleazy night-club bathroom. _Yet here they were._

They had no idea what that itchiness all over meant but they was damn sure they were going to find out before going back home.

They never spent enough time together to probe further into it.

It was always: clothes off, maybe a little bit of consensual violence, the fucking in itself and then they both got dressed and got home. _Well_ , not _home_ but to their lodgings here on Earth.

So, as any demon who asked far too many questions for their own good, the next meeting they arranged with that son of a bitch would lead them back to their own apartment. They _had a theory to prove, after all._

Demons took risks. Risks that none of the angels ever took. Not in 6000 years. But here was Gabriel now taking all of those risks alongside them.

They really wanted to see what happened if he spent the night.

And no, that had nothing to do with how nice they felt when he had his arms wrapped around them, or his fingernails digging under their shoulder blades, nor did it have anything to do with the sounds they made when he bit their neck or dug his fingers in their thighs so hard that they bruised. It had nothing to do with how reverently he kissed every inch of their skin or how he discovered that by sucking their toes he could make them moan. _No_. It wasn’t any of that. It was just curiosity about what made an angel tick and how to bring them down.

Useful information for Downstairs in case they ever wanted to take them back.

They hated the lot of the Dark Council and that sod Hastur and, frankly, more of them than they could possibly name, but they did like Dagon. And Eric to some extent when they weren't particularly bored so they would set fire to one of them to brighten up their day.

They felt bereft of what they called home.

That’s probably why they took part in so many secret interactions with the angel. _Planning on making him Fall_. Or corrupting him plain and simple.

It certainly had nothing to do with the divine ecstasy they felt every time he touched them. _No, sir._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be some more plot-centric chapters later on but I did need to get the fuckening out of the way first.  
> Writing this chapter has put me waaaay way out of my comfort zone and it's not even graphic to begin with.


	17. The Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to find out about the dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Adam makes an appearance.

‘Are you actually trying to discorporate us? Because I’ll have you know they won’t be so eager to provide new bodies for us nowadays.’

‘Angel, for the millionth time, I am respecting the speed limit.’

‘Not in the area, you aren’t.’

‘ _A_ speed limit. Besides, when have I ever gotten into an accident before?’

‘That one time that you hit miss Device comes to mind.’

‘I told you, I didn’t hit her, she hit _me_. And she didn’t even have her lights on.’

‘Well, for that matter, neither did _you_.’

Crowley muttered something that sounded like a vaguely mocking _“neither did you”_ and stepped on the acceleration again while Aziraphale leaned back into the seat and pouted about how Rossini’s sonata for strings turned into Rossini’s "Radio Gaga" to no one’s particular surprise, not even his own. But it did get bothersome at times.

The rest of the journey was spent in sullen silence – _well_ , as much silence as the violins turned base guitar would allow – as neither Crowley nor Aziraphale planned on admitting they were wrong. But none of them wanted to continue with the pointless argument any more either. Aziraphale because he felt bad for starting an argument knowing that Crowley wasn’t in the fittest of states. _Not with those dreams taking over._ And Crowley because he was a spoiled brat, at heart. _Also, demon. A very important detail, that_. Also because he secretly found Aziraphale’s fussing about his driving absolutely adorable. _Not a very important detail, that._

The A3 had been bearable but then it was that blasted M25 and Crowley groaned the whole time they were stuck in traffic. Aziraphale had fought very hard not to make a pointed comment. And then they took the A40 and the traffic eased a bit so that Crowley could pull all his signature stunts once more, varying from passing in between two lorries with not even an inch between them, to him drifting through traffic changing lanes on a whim, to him eventually giving up and deciding to just drive on the hard shoulder instead. Two police cars had been left engine-less in his wake as they made the poor decision to follow him in the hopes of giving him a fine at the very least. Aziraphale tutted but kept quiet about the whole ordeal. _This was clearly Crowley being upset about the dreams and taking it out on the Bentley, himself and all the other traffic participants_ , he told himself. He was very good at lying to himself nowadays.

And then it was quaint country roads just half a lane short of being proper roads and then Aziraphale felt the need to intervene for the first time after a brake, a swirl, the Bentley becoming quite intimate with the surrounding greenery for a brief moment and his very panicked and audible gasp.

‘Watch the road, you wanker!’ Crowley yelled after the offending car that was rapidly disappearing into the distance. ‘I swear…some people. Who even taught that guy how to drive?’ he muttered some more as he continued at the same infernal speed as before.

‘Crowley we could have crashed the car!’

‘Not my fault the DVLA gives licences away to about any ole’ madman.’

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow at that. Crowley pretended he didn’t notice.

‘And besides, we didn’t, so stop fretting. We’ll be at book-girl’s in no time and then you can drink tea and eat crumpets or whatever takes your fancy.’

‘Oh no, I’m not risking tea. Not after last time.’

Even Crowley, who rarely drank tea, and always at Aziraphale’s insistence, had to admit that when it came to steeping leaves into boiling water, Anathema would not get 5 out of 5 stars for her efforts. She was a great deal many things, but a tea brewer she was not.

In about another ten minutes they drew to a halt in front of Jasmine Cottage.

Anathema was already waiting for them since Aziraphale had thought it rude to pop over unannounced despite Crowley’s protests about how being rude was properly demonic and all of that and had telephoned her in advance.

How exactly did she know that they’d be arriving in an hour instead of two might have had in part something to do with her ancestry and her powers as an occultist. On the other hand, it was far more probable to just assume that Crowley always drove like an insane person and go from there.

‘Hello, mister Aziraphale,’ she intoned merrily while opening the front gate. ‘Such a pleasure to see you again.’

‘I told you to just call me Aziraphale, dear girl.’

‘And _I_ told _you_ to call me Anathema but what did my ears hear not even two hours ago?’

‘Point taken.’

Over the course of the last few months something akin to a friendship had started between the two of them, sprung by a common interest in books of prophecy in particular and old books in general. Anathema had more than welcomed them over for tea and cookies when Aziraphale had called and Aziraphale had tried his best not to mention they were called biscuits.

‘Let’s go to the backyard. It’s still so beautiful outside and I heard winter here can be quite cold,’ Anathema said, not having witnessed a proper winter for a day in her life.

‘And damp. Just don’t expect any snow. It’s mostly just sludge. And rain. Lots and lots of rain. Hell, if there’s even two inches of snow everything just shuts down.’

‘Crowley,’ she acknowledged him with a nod of her head and a tight-lipped smile. _Still not over the car accident it seemed_. ‘And I think you’re mistaken. This place always has perfect weather for the time of year, thanks to our common friend and neighborhood Antichrist.’

‘Oh, so Aziraphale warrants a proper “mister” but I’m just Crowley, is it?’

‘Darling, do try not to be a menace.’

‘Well you did hit me with your car!’

_Definitely not over that yet._

‘You hit _me_!’

‘Please, can we all just…’ Aziraphale waved his hands frantically about. ‘Let’s just not do this right now. If I hear this argument one more time, I think my ears will fall off.’

Anathema sighed and rolled her eyes but nodded at the angel, gesturing for the two of them to follow her in the back to a long wooden table and a couple of benches underneath an old oak tree.

It was indeed rather pleasant, or at least as pleasant as one might expect in October in Oxfordshire. But Adam still had most of his powers so if he imagined a perfect autumn with golden leaves and warm breezes than so it was, because he said it should be.

They sat down on one of the benches and waited for Anathema to run back inside and return with a tray of pastries and cookies (biscuits) and, to Aziraphale’s rising terror, tea.

Newt followed shortly after with a bottle of whisky and four tumblers. _Probably at Anathema’s behest._

Aziraphale was eyeing the tea warily and she must have surely caught wind of that as she started chuckling.

‘No worries, Newt made it. After the look on your face last time, I’ve been banned from even touching a kettle in this house.’

The angel visibly relaxed and took the mug offered to him graciously.

Crowley took his as well, downed most of it, and then took a hold of the whisky bottle and poured himself a quarter of its contents in the mug which he, again, downed.

Everyone at the table looked at him with various degrees of shock. Newt seemed completely taken aback, Anathema just a little bit impressed and Aziraphale rather offended by his partner’s none existing manners. It all amounted to shock, nonetheless.

‘So, I don’t mean to rush to the subject at hand or anything, but what exactly brings you here, Aziraphale?’ Anathema asked as she poured two more mugs of tea. ‘You haven’t visited me in two months now. And it sounded rather urgent on the phone.’

‘Well, my dear girl, you see, um…it’s a bit of an occult problem.’

‘Ethereal,’ Crowley said while inspecting his fingernails and then poured himself some more whisky.

‘What?’

‘You said it yourself, Aziraphale. Angels are ethereal. I was an angel back then, ergo…’

‘Look, let’s not split hairs here,’ Aziraphale huffed and braced himself for more explaining.

‘What do you mean you were an angel back then?’ Anathema’s gaze snapped to him.

‘Way back when, you know. Before time began. Then I apparently rubbed some people off the wrong way and then pouf, down I went,’ Crowley mimicked a fall and then what she could only understand as an explosion or something. ‘Pits of sulfur and all that jazz.’

She stared at him in silence for a couple of moments, mouth hanging open.

‘What? How do you think demons came into being. You _have_ read the Bible, you must’ve. Proper research for that bit you pulled there at the end. Stopping the Antichrist and the world ending.’

‘I…I did but it clearly says you rebelled…’

‘If by rebel you mean ask a series of uncomfortable questions…yeah, I mean I guess we did.’

‘This is…well, honestly this is a bit much. There was a war in Heaven, right?’

‘Oh, there was a war, _alright_.’

‘But, you weren’t the ones to start it?’

‘Yup. Got it in one, book-girl.’

Anathema looked from one to the other and bit her lip.

‘But what has that have to do with anything? That’s like way _way_ in the past. And then we stopped the other war and everything is okay now? _Right_? Everything is _okay_?’ she almost pleaded.

‘We’re not so certain, my dear. You see, demons don’t remember much from,’ Aziraphale pointed upwards with a pained expression on his face. ‘They were robbed of the love of God and the love of the other angels.’

‘Not that that’s a thing,’ Crowley muttered into his cup.

The look Aziraphale threw him nearly made him fall off the bench altogether.

‘Oh no _no_ , angel, I didn’t mean it like that! I love you _so_ much and I know you do too. I wasn’t talking about you, you were never like any of the others! You have to believe me! I was talking about Gabe and Mike and all the other tossers. Please, darling, please…’ he said as he held Aziraphale’s hands in his own and had the most forlorn expression Anathema had ever seen on anyone, demon or otherwise.

Aziraphale nodded and caressed Crowley’s cheek.

‘I know, my dear. I know. You didn’t say anything wrong. I was myself thinking of the others. Can’t be helped, really,’ he tried throwing Anathema what he probably believed to be a reassuring smile but fell just on the other side of pained.

‘So how do you know you didn’t actually rebel if you can’t remember stuff from Before?’ Anathema asked, seriously curious.

‘It’s just glimpses, you know,’ Crowley offered by means of explanation. ‘Bits and pieces. Hazy, the lot of them. One minute you’re making stars and the next you go to upper management to complain about the food and then you’re shoved out the back door. That’s about it really.’

‘Until recently, anyway,’ Aziraphale continued the explanation.

‘Does it have to do with…you know?’ Newt spoke for the first time referring to the newly averted Apocalypse.

‘What do _you_ think, lizard-boy?’

‘Now, dear, we came here for help. Do behave.’

‘How can we help you?’

‘Well, I thought…hoped, rather, that we could find some of the answers we are looking for in some of your occult books, dear girl.’

‘Answers to _what_ exactly?’

‘To why the living fuck I started dreaming about Satan in angel form, for a start. To why I started remembering angels I never knew before. To why I seem to get these flashbacks from Before every other week. And that’s only counting a few.’

‘I…I’ll have to check. But I don’t remember seeing anything like that mentioned in any of the books and I read them cover to cover countless times.’

Aziraphale sighed in defeat while Crowley threw his head back and groaned.

‘These are 3 hours of my life that I’m never getting back.’

Anathema wanted to point out several things. First that that was rude. Second that he was a demon so 3 hours weren’t of that much import. And third that he was reacting like that because of frustration and probably fear more than anything else. She didn’t get to say any of that as a bike horn interrupted her train of thought.

‘Hya ‘Nathema,’ she heard the cheerful voice of Adam as he propped his bike against one of the walls of the house and scurried over.

‘Oh, I didn’t know you had guests over. Just came for biscuits, really. Hi, you two.’

‘Hello, dear boy. Such a nice surprise to meet you.’

Adam was quickly waved over by Anathema to sit down and join them.

‘Hi, Hellspawn,’ Crowley said and then put his hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder. ‘Let’s go, angel. It seems like we’re no closer to uncovering the truth about those blasted dreams than when we got here. Memories. Whatever.’

Adam perked up at that and threw them the widest smile anyone could ever throw.

‘Oh, did you like those?’

‘I… _WHAT_?’

‘Did you like the memories? Thought it was altogether unfair for people not to remember stuff. Not very nice.’

‘Nice? _Nice_?’

‘Darling, please…’

‘ _No_ , angel,’ he warned as he drew nearer to Adam.

Anathema was on the verge of putting herself between the demon and the child when Adam shook his head at her.

Crowley also seemed to make up his mind about something on his way over and then started pacing in circles pulling at his hair and groaning.

‘Was I wrong?’ Adam asked, innocently.

Crowley took off his sunglasses and started rubbing the bridge of his nose. He drew a deep breath. And then another. And a third one.

‘No, Hellspawn…I guess not. You’re a good kid. Good intentions. Good…yeah, that.’

‘Why are you angry then?’

There was a long silence before Crowley spoke again.

‘I guess I’m angry because I only started to get glimpses. After 6000 years of not knowing anything. I just get bits. I still don’t remember my name. I knew an angel back then. I don’t know who they are. I don’t know if they Fell. I don’t know why _I_ Fell. Not entirely. I fear that I’ll never know. And I was okay with that, I was. It’s been such a long time that I made my peace with it. But now…it’s like scratching an itch. And it keeps on itching no matter how much I scratch. No matter what I do.’

Adam got up from the bench and approached the demon under everyone’s wary eyes.

He got within arm’s range and put a hand on Crowley’s shoulder gently.

‘You will get them back. But it will take time. I don’t know what they did but it’s very hard to undo.’

‘They?’

‘I don’t know who. It’s just that it always keeps fighting back whenever I try. But it looks like I managed to do something. Just a little. Something, though.’

‘You’re _still_ trying to make me remember? It’s been months!’

‘Yeah, I am. It’s unfair! And why shouldn’t you remember? All of you?’

Aziraphale drew in a deep breath.

Crowley stilled in place.

‘All of…’

‘Yeah, demons and such. A lot of the angels too. Someone decided to be nasty and make you forget. I really don’t like that.’

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged looks.

Making all of Heaven and all of Hell remember everything... _oh, God, the were so royally and monumentally screwed._


	18. Crazy little thing called love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gabe is introduced to foodstuff, even if it is of the shoddy variety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose), as ever, for all the love and support! You have provided me with countless hours of mindless banter about this mess and quite a lot of British insight, not to mention all of the kind words and infinite patience, and for that I am very very grateful!

‘So? How does it feel to “sully the temple of your celestial body with gross matter” ya twat?’ Beelzebub asked with a satisfied grin on their face while making air-quotes. Then they munched on some more chips.

Gabriel was already digging into his third hamburger so he only hummed slightly in response.

‘Told ya you’d like it,’ they said and eyed the place around them.

It was a decrepit McDonalds near Charing Cross.

They had absolutely no idea how they managed to convince him to give eating a chance in the first place.

_It was probably all of that amazing sex._

He finished all of his chips and started eating some of theirs.

‘Naha, get your own, I don’t share food.’

He hummed some more, his mouth still full and made his way towards the counter.

They couldn’t stop smiling and they didn’t even know why. _They never smiled so what’s up with this nonsense?_

Gabriel came back to the table with a tray laden with some more hamburgers, four other servings of chips and two large Cokes.

That’s when they started laughing out loud, plain and simple.

‘And they say _I_ ’m the demon of Gluttony. Who’d have thunk it that I could get Archangel Fucking Gabriel hooked up on these things,’ they said as they pointed a chip at his nose and then proceeded to slurp on their Coke.

‘By no means am I telling you to stop – I _should_ tempt people into this all the time, but please don’t eat up so much that you’ll barf later. I do have plans for the evening.’

He raised his eyes at that and stopped chewing completely. He did swallow though, even if it seemed more like a gulp.

They were just biting the end of one chip as they balanced their chair on two legs and wiggled their eyebrows at him suggestively.

He swallowed again and got up to his feet.

‘Let’s go.’

‘Aren’t you eager, loverboy?’

He could only nod in response.

‘You know the drill. I go first and then you follow. Thirty minutes, yes? You have all of that food to consume that would go to waste, anyway,’ they said as they chastised themself for even thinking about how it would not do to waste food. They were _a demon, what was wrong with them?_

‘Meet me up at the flat, will you?’

He nodded some more.

***

A lot of odd weeks had happened in the meantime.

_That got them from point A to point B._

They _really_ liked point B.

They wanted to call Dagon. Tell them about the whole thing. Dagon would understand. Even more, Dagon would give them advice. And they found themself in need of some advice because this was turning into something a little bit more serious than a casual shag in a bathroom stall.

They went on dinners and met up for drinks and even spent the hours after the _honest-to-Satan_ mind-blowing sex talking about stuff. And not having any more sex. _Well, sometimes._

He’d never spend the night, they had made that abundantly clear. _A demon has to have some boundaries_ , after all. Even if they felt those boundaries were becoming more and more blurred by the day.

They found that they quite liked making a jab at him. But not like at the beginning when all they wanted to do was to rile him up and make him angry. This felt more like a case of slightly ruffled feathers in a fun, joking sort of way. It didn’t feel like mindless insults, it felt like banter. It made them laugh. And nothing Downstairs made them laugh. _Well, maybe Dagon_ , but that was about it.

And the sod was good-looking and laughed at their jokes and always complimented them even if he always got an insult in return for having the nerve to do so. _They liked the compliments_. Not that they would admit it to anyone short of being skinned alive. Never got any compliments in Hell. The closest thing they got was a nod from Lucifer every now and again for a job well done. _Badly done?_ Who even cared anymore.

They had started to be a little bit put off by the idea of having to return Downstairs at any point in time as of late. They had it good here. _Maybe that’s why that bastard Crowley fought back as well_. The food was amazing. The drinks and cigarettes and that cocaine they took that one time from their neighbourhood dealer. That had been an extremely interesting evening that resulted in smashed furniture and some noise complaints from the upstairs neighbours. And the satisfaction of having tempted Gabriel into snorting coke through a hundred-dollar bill clean off their nightstand. The weed wasn’t that appealing since it left their poorly ventilated flat reeking for a full week. LSD had always been fun. The crack on their ceiling always took all of those funny shapes when they looked at it. They were thinking of trying mushrooms next, now that they had convinced Gabriel of putting anything in his mouth other than alcohol or, well…um…

They were just thinking about buying some whipped cream for their next encounter when they heard the door creak open. It was a lousy old thing that creaked all the time and you really had to put your shoulder into it if you ever wanted to get the bloody thing open. Not that it much mattered for either ethereal or occult entities. But not many of the humans could ever push that thing open, safe for a full-on SWAT team.

‘I bought us wine,’ they heard from the doorway and couldn’t help but smirk. In so far Gabriel’s wine choices hadn’t been the most stellar, but then again, they were prone to drinking store-brand whisky on a daily basis so they didn’t mind much.

‘I don’t know if it’s any good but the clerk recommended it and it was the most expensive one they had.’

‘Spoiling a demon, are you, oh glorious Archangel?’

He stilled for a moment and his eyes seemed unfocused, staring at something that only he could see.

‘Come over here. I want those pests upstairs to complain about the noise for the oncoming week, at least.’

That seemed to snap him out of whatever daze he was in as he took off his shoes and coat and stepped away from the doorway.

They’d have to call Dagon in the morning. For now they had other plans.

***

It was some hours and several thumps from the floor above combined with a lot of imaginative invectives later that they got up from the bed. Those people were certainly going to Hell judging by their creative use of swearwords alone. They smiled to themself, glad to have tempted them to Wrath while at the same time tempting an angel of the Host to Lust. And Gluttony too, earlier that day.

They grabbed the packet of L&B’s currently sitting on their nightstand and lit up a cigarette while examining said angel that was sprawled over the majority of her bed snoring slightly. _Sloth too, it seemed_.

The feeling of a job well done and a temptation well accomplished seemed to be at odds with something else, though.

They couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty about doing so many things that would lead to his Fall and didn’t understand why. It was what they were programmed to do, wasn’t it? But he looked so peaceful and content and for some reason they wanted him to continue to be this way from now until the end of days. That was a dangerous train of thought that they would explore later. For now they knew they had to get him out of there and clear her mind and talk to Dagon.

They looked outside through the window smudged with grime that led to than infinitely small courtyard and they could see that the sky was getting brighter transitioning from night to day. They had told themself that they would never let him spend the night over. Just like they would never go back to his place. That last bit was because they feared that his place would be a lot more closely monitored than theirs and they didn’t want him to get into further trouble but they would never admit that to anyone, especially not to him.

So, they poked him hard in the ribs until they got a response.

The response was an irritated huff and him drawing the blanket over his head.

‘Wank-wings, time’s up. Up you go.’

‘Five more minutes.’

‘No. You know my rules. You have agreed to them since the very beginning. And, if you want whatever this is to continue, I think it’s in your best interest if you go. Right now.’

That made him nearly jump out of bed in his hurry to comply.

He got dressed just as soon and made his way to the door before he stopped, reconsidered and came back on the other side of the bed and planted a kiss on their lips. Kiss that started innocently enough but turned into anything but, quick enough.

‘You are not distracting me into another round just so you can spend the morning here,’ they said as they pushed at his chest although they couldn’t suppress a sly smile. ‘Tomorrow night? As per schedule?’

‘I was thinking maybe tonight? We could go for dinner first?’

‘Oh, look who’s suddenly a foodie. Fine, but you’re paying this time. Text me the address. And just go already, I don’t want you here come sunrise.’

‘Tonight it is,’ he said and kissed them once more and then really left for good.

Beelzebub smiled stupidly, looking at the door for five minutes.

Then they tried forcing their face into a neutral expression and grabbed their phone to call Dagon.

They really thought they’d get some advice from them. Counted on it, really, since their stomach was doing weird, fluttery things that they had no proper name for.

And then they proceeded to be yelled at for a full half hour.

_So much for that helpful advice then._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare yourselves for more Heaven and Hell in the next chapters.


	19. Play the game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more Heaven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's never enough Heaven, is there? There is, there absolutely is. Heaven sucks big time, but we do have some okay-ish angels to make up for it.

Pravuil was just on her way back from delivering even more files to Michael, _that bitch_ , when she saw a familiar face around.

Unfortunately they were in the middle of a rather crowded hallway and she knew very well how much angels liked to gossip. She’d have to improvise, it seemed.

Lucky for her she still had her hands full of other files that had to be sorted out and she always carried her issued mobile with her at all times. So she pretended to make a call while seemingly distractedly walking through the throng of angels towards her intended target.

Into which she bumped while loudly exclaiming:

‘Look at me, not watching where I’m going,’ as all her folders fell on the floor in a small heap.

Jophiel looked at her with a slightly raised eyebrow and got the faintest of nods in return. So she thanked the angel who was reporting to her and bid him a good day while kneeling down to help Pravuil gather them up.

‘She knows,’ Pravuil said, in no more than a whisper. ‘I delivered those files yesterday.’

‘So what would you have me do? Pretend it didn’t happen? It’s on record. Why the Hell did you give them to her, Prav? You were the one to tell us to contact Gabe in the first place.’

‘It’s my job, for a start, innit? And I can’t just make stuff disappear like that, willy-nilly. You know what a pain that was last time. I think it’s best to just fess up. Wonderful coincidence and whatnot. Just thought I’d give you a heads up,’ Pravuil nodded once more and got up because it could only take you so long, gathering up files. Jophiel stared after her as she made her way towards the Archives and mentally swore.

_Fucking Michael._

She had to tell Raph. And then had to make a certain visit that she really dreaded.

***

Seraphiel eyed the Archangel warily but she knew at heart that if there was someone to hate Michael’s guts as much as she did, it was Raphael. _Hated Gabriel too_ , since he always seemed to have just a little bit of a problem with authority. That was the reason for the wary expression. Because he had point blank told her that he and Jophiel approached Gabriel and asked for his help. Which was something that she had a hard time seeing Raphael as doing.

‘I know it sounds unbelievable, but Joph argued quite a bit. And you know I have quite a soft spot for Joph.’

‘As does Gabriel.’

‘Exactly.’

They were sitting in the break-room huddled over one of the tables. Zaphiel was still sipping on some tea, having given up the notion that tea should have any proper aroma long time ago.

‘Fine, alright. Let’s say I believe you have good intentions,’ Seraphiel said while not believing it at all, not even for a little bit.

Problem was she didn’t have much to do during the day so she more often then not dozed off in her office chair. Angels didn’t sleep, by and large, and, even if they did, they never dreamed anyway. So, imagine her shock when she did just that. Angels didn’t have any panic attacks either but what happened after she woke up seemed pretty close to that.

‘Sery, you know I do.’

‘Aaahaa, that’s for Pravie, not you. I’m still the head of the Seraphim and you will address me properly.’

‘Fine. Lord Seraphiel. Is that better?’

‘Don’t be a cunt, Raphael.’

That in itself was a very hard thing to do, considering Raphael’s personality.

‘So, what is the plan?’ Zaphiel inquired, trying to appease the both of them.

‘We need to spread the word. As many angels as possible, but be quiet about it. We all know what happened last time. Even better, not mention our intentions at all, just urge as many angels as we can to try sleeping. You’d never believe this, but you get the weirdest dreams. Memories even. I know angels don’t usually do that but it’s very illuminating,’ Raphael said with an odd smile on his face.

Seraphiel had absolutely no intention of telling him she was well aware of the fact. She hadn’t even told Zaphiel and they were…well… _um_ …

‘And how does that change anything?’

‘It’s all memories from Before. If we can make them see it all with their own eyes, well, I think that we can convince them that something is definitely wrong.’

‘Of course it’s bloody wrong, Pravie says all the records have been deleted!’

‘See what I mean? This is the only way of getting those memories back.’

‘That or Pravie doing a hard reboot on the whole system.’

‘That sounds dangerous.’

‘Well, so is this. Telling angels to suddenly take up napping as a pastime. Bound to raise questions.’

‘But so is letting Michael have it her way.’

‘I hate to admit, but you’re right, you bastard.’

‘Generally am,’ Raphael grinned widely at the two. ‘So you’re in charge of the Seraphs and Cherubs. Prav is in charge of the Thrones. We still need someone on the inside for the Dominions. The Virtues -’

‘Yeah, we ain’t touching those shits.’

‘Took the words right out of my mouth. And me and Joph are still trying to locate Ari and Azrael. I know Ari’s in Africa but we need to keep a low profile for the moment. We’re already on record for talking to that wanker Gabriel. On the other hand, Azrael is nowhere to be found.’

‘Sulking a bit after that whole shitshow?’ Seraphiel waved her hands about, implying that the whole Apocalypse business was nothing more than a rather dull Saturday afternoon.

‘Probably. We don’t know what to do about the Principalities either. They’re so closely monitored, you have no idea. What with Aziraphale going rogue and pulling that stunt. I think she believes them more prone to disobeying.’

‘Disobeying who the _fuck_ , Raphael? _Michael?_ She’s not sodding lord and master! And when has God last spoken to you, if we’re being honest here?’

‘That’s the whole point, isn’t it?' he asked apparently not caring. 'Well, I’m off. I’ve been down on Earth for a while and Peliel isn’t just going to prank himself, so, busy schedule all around.’

He drummed his fingers on the table, raised his hand up in a mock salute and left the break room humming something that would have sounded to Aziraphale very much like bebop.

‘Zaphie, hun, stop drinking that shite. And...you know...’ Seraphiel said while raising her eyes upwards.

He looked down at his mug and then at her and chanced a shy smile.

‘Third floor bathroom?’

‘If you’re fucking amenable.’

***

‘Mickey, darling! How are you on this fine and blessed day?’ Jophiel smiled her widest and fakest smile as she closed the door to Michael’s office.

‘Don’t call me that.’

Jophiel shrugged as if it couldn’t be helped and sat down on one of the very uncomfortable chairs in front of Michael’s desk still smiling.

‘You’d never guess who me and Raph ran into while down there. Such a surprise.’

Michael huffed, irately.

‘It was Gabe. Can you _believe_ it? Out of all the people. _Well_ , angels. He says hi, by the way. Says he misses you. What an old softie, amirite?’

Michael still seemed fuming but forced her face to smile back. She wasn’t doing a very good job.

‘Well, anyway, thought I’d pop over and tell you since it was such a surprise encounter.’

‘What did he say?’

‘Oh, not much. He hates it down there. Humans are weird, that type of thing.’

‘Did he mention…’

‘ _Yes?_ ’

‘No, nothing. My head is playing tricks on me. Nice for you to pop in but I do have a job to do.’

‘Ah, ever so dedicated. That’s why you’re the best of us, Mickey,’ Jophiel said while getting up from her chair.

‘I told you not to call me tha-’

‘Toodleoo,’ Jophiel waved and shut the door.

Michael sat back in her chair and fumed some more. The reason for her displeasure wasn’t even Jophiel, although she helped. Michael was really looking forward for an investigation as to why exactly those two morons met with Gabriel secretively. But now that bitch came and told her to her face that they did. _Not so secretively, then_. Maybe just a coincidence. _Coincidences like that didn’t happen_. Maybe God just hated her. It didn’t exactly matter since God was no longer part of the picture.

No, the person she was angry at would soon get his comeuppance. As soon as she gathered her wits about her so as not to not scream her head off over the phone.

She opened the file Pravuil had brought her earlier and arranged the pictures on her desk. Then she drew in a deep breath. Then she dialled a number on her phone.

 _‘Well hello there,’_ could be heard from the other end.

‘What the _fuck_ did I tell you not to do?’ she proceeded in screaming her head off in the mouthpiece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peliel is the angel in charge of the Virtues. They all hate on them. Most of them just stay clear of the buggers but Raphael takes a personal pleasure in tormenting them.


	20. Tear it up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now let's have a lil' bit of Hell to balance it all out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love both Dagon and Eric to a fault and they are going to appear a lot throughout this thing.

Dagon didn’t like a lot of things in Hell. It _was_ Hell, after all, so it figures. But they _did_ like the fact that they were in charge of recording everything. They liked the fact that they were in charge of _all_ of the information. They were the one to know whenever anything happened, both upstairs and below. And that gave them an edge. An advantage. Made them feel powerful. So, the meeting they had just been in left them fuming something terrible.

***

‘Ah, take a seat, Dagon,’ Samael said pointing at the other end of the table.

They sat down against their better judgement, knowing that being summoned like this and in front of the whole lot of bastards from the Dark Council was not something they would hum happily about once they took off.

The reason why the whole long table was sticky and filled with cup rings could only be explained by never getting to have nice things in Hell to begin with and making sure everything sucked, since food and drinks weren’t allowed in the board room and that table had never even seen a cup for a day in its very long life.

The lot of them were all acting very smug. Except Asmodeus who was leering at them. They bared all of their teeth at the bastard.

‘So, Dagon, you were speaking with someone earlier over the telephone line, were you not?’

‘What if I was?’

‘Could that someone be our darling Lord of Flies?’

‘What if it was?’

‘Ah, _well_ , you see, I particularly asked all the demons to cut ties with them, did I not?’

‘Never offered any explanation as to why, _my Lord_ ,’ they spat the last bit out while scowling. They knew they were in deep shit already, so why not make it deeper? _They were a demon after all._ It was the proper thing to do.

‘And I don’t intend to do so in the foreseeable future. That’s why the Dark Council exists in the first place. Whatever we decide, you lot obey. Is that understood?’

‘Mmm.’

‘Didn't catch that bit. So I'll repeat my question. Is. That. Understood?’

‘Myeah.’

‘Now, that’s not a very proper way to address the Head of the Council, is it?’ he said with a small faux pout while moss green eyes twinkled at her in amusement. _He was enjoying this, the utter cunt_.

‘Yeah, m’lord.’

‘That’s better.’

Baal grinned at them with brown rotten teeth and a dumb look on his stupid face. They hated that guy. _Too stupid for his own good_. They knew how the saying went – _too smart for your own good_. He was the polar opposite of that. _Fuck that guy!_ _Fuck the lot of them_ , come to think of it.

Asmodeus leered some more. They ignored him.

‘I know we don’t keep records about all that goes over the telephone, but it has been decided unanimously that we will begin to do so, starting today.’

They knew what unanimously meant. Samael wanted something done and the rest of them agreed to whatever took his fancy like properly trained lap dogs.

‘I want weekly reports on my desk every Sunday.’

They nodded and got up, for fear of disembowelling all of them if they stayed in the room any longer.

‘Oh, and Dagon? I know you’re a smart cookie. Don’t make the same mistake twice.’

They nodded again and started to make their way towards the door, only for Asmodeus to grab their hand and pull at it to force them to sit in his lap.

They took the shiv they always kept tuckered away and planted it near his jugular.

‘Oh, come on, you’re no fun.’

‘Let go, you cunt, or you’ll see how fun it is to regrow a limb.’

‘Yes, let them go, they’re not worth it,’ Marax waved a hand as he placed his feet on the table.

 _Somehow that stung even more_ , Dagon told themselves as they quickly exited the board room, slamming the door in the process.

They made their way back to the Archives with a mad glint in their eye and at such a determined pace it made every demon on the corridors step aside to let them pass.

Once there, they slammed the door some more and screamed for a full minute.

Eric lifted his head up from one of the piles of documents he had been taking a nap on and eyed them doubtfully.

‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ they snapped at him as soon as they saw him.

‘Sorting the files, obviously,’ he lied.

They laughed bitterly at that.

‘Well sort away, don’t let me keep you. Call the other Erics too since now we have to sort the telephone calls as well.’

‘Sheesh, that sucks,’ Eric said as he was prone to pull a lot of phone pranks on the other demons and that wasn’t a habit that he wanted to give up just yet.

‘You don't say?’ Dagon snarled as they threw themselves on their office chair, nearly tipping it over.

‘So that means…no more calls upstairs for you?’

‘What was it that gave it away?’

‘That’s harsh.’

They laughed some more but it was bitter and it showed.

‘Yeah, the only damn demon I liked in this shithole and now I can’t even talk to them.’

‘Well…I mean…you could...if you want...’

‘The whole lot of them stupid shits will watch my every move, never mind that they want weekly reports of all the calls, so tell me, how exactly could I do that?’

‘We can hack the system.’

‘You and whose army?’ they looked at him with a scowl.

Eric eyed them back with an expression that clearly said _‘are you kidding me right now?’_

‘Alright, fine. What can you lot possibly do?’

‘I do like tweaking with technology. We can make the call untraceable. I’ve done it before. Who do you think made all of those calls that Murmur thought were telemarketers? Had a proper investigation too at the time. Not even you could trace them and you’re…well, you’re _you_.’

Dagon laughed in earnest this time.

‘I can’t believe you pulled that shit off. That’s bloody brilliant! The look on the wanker’s face! Priceless!’

Eric stood a tad taller and beamed at the rarely received praise. Scratch that. Never-before received praise.

‘Yeah, well,’ he replied, blushing a little bit.

‘So you’re saying you can do that?’

‘Of course I can! Easy peasy lemon squeezy.’

‘If you want to avoid being discorporated, never, and I _do_ mean _never_ , say that in my presence again. But if you can pull that shit off, I’ll even let you…I’ll even let you eat all those greasy foods you like so much all over my files. Don’t actually give much of a shit about them anyway.’

‘Nice!’

***

Dagon knew what gave them away. They had known as soon as they had slammed the telephone down and lifted their eyes up to look towards the doorway of the archives. It was that stupid sod Baal grinning at her. Stupidly. _Dumb cunt._

On the other hand, it was entirely their fault.

Beelzebub had called and they had answered like a stupid person. And then they had screamed at the top of their lungs at them like an even stupider person. _Demon._ Semantics.

Not that Beelz was plenty smart, hooking up with an angel and then admitting it to Dagon in the first place.

_Why would they even do that?_

_Yeah, sex was nice_ , but there were plenty of humans they could have tempted into it. Even some of the demons that went upstairs for various missions. _But no_ , they had to go for the only angel in their path.

_What was Dagon ever going to do about them?_

It wasn’t that they were jealous. They weren’t. Being a demon made you immune to stuff like feeling betrayed or wanting to be exclusive. It wasn’t even that they missed the sex. It was just… _Beelz_.

They were their closest friend and they already feared for their life and now they went and pulled this stupid shit? _Why were they so careless with their own life?_

Dagon would go above and beyond to protect them. _Why didn’t they do that themself?_

And to think they even mentioned something resembling feelings towards that stupid son of a bitch.

_Beelz was dead meat._

They wouldn’t let that happen. _Not in a million years._

So they yelled in the mouthpiece trying to put some sense into them.

They believed the line _‘What the hell were you thinking, you dumb cunt?’_ was the thing that Baal overheard. They weren’t sure. It might have also been _‘Angel dick won’t solve any of your problems’_. Or even _‘I miss you, you intolerable fuck’_. Any one of those, really.

They were screwed. And Beelz was screwed as well.

***

Samael dismissed the lot of them and made his way back to his office that was adjacent to the board room itself.

He counted this a win.

 _Sure_ , they hadn’t received a lot of updates about Beelzebub and Gabriel meeting up in the last few weeks but he was certain that they did and they were bound to appear on the records eventually.

If not in Hell then at least in Heaven. And Michael would pass those files over without a shadow of a doubt.

He had Michael all figured out.

 _As vain as the next person. Greedy. Power hungry. Violent. Downright evil_ , if you asked him.

He had no idea how she wasn’t one of the Fallen already.

_But no matter._

It paid to have such like-minded allies back Upstairs, especially for what he had in store.

He adjusted his ponytail in the mirror that he kept in the corner of the room and patted down his burgundy velvet coat for a bit. Meetings with the others always made him feel dirty afterwards.

Well, at least now, with Baal’s recounting of Dagon’s phone call, he had reason enough to ask for the telephone records. Thing that he had wanted to do for centuries.

He was in no peril himself since he had made sure that his own private line was nobody’s business a while back. _How else was he to communicate with Michael?_

And then the telephone rang.

‘Well hello there.’

 _‘What the_ fuck _did I tell you not to do?’_

‘Um?’

 _‘Not to put any demons on their tail. They know we’re onto them. Killed the lot of them even. And you know what’s worse? I have no more records of them meeting up since then. So, can you please tell me what the_ fuck _is wrong with you?’_

‘I didn’t give them any clearance on that.’

_‘Somehow that’s even worse. Not being able to make sure your people follow proper orders. Although I don’t even know what I was expecting, really. It’s Hell. You lot never knew how to obey anything.’_

‘Thanks a bunch.’

 _‘Just keep your people in check,’_ she said and the line went flat.

_Fucking Michael._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine Samael as your go-to Bond villain. Minus the white cat. In actual reality, that is. The stroking-cat-vibes stay with us, though. Too bad there's no white cats in Hell.


	21. I want it all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I rearranged the chapter order because this is a bit of an angsty one. So have some Bee. We're back with fluffy husbands next chapter.

They had no idea what happened. And how it went downhill so fast.

They were in a dim-lit Chinese restaurant sharing spring rolls when they chanced a lewd suggestion and smiled with obvious intent. Then there was a snap of fingers.

And then they somehow ended up back at theirs yet again. They didn’t know if it was through a series of angelic or demonic miracles. Maybe it had been sheer luck and chance. Maybe it had been the Almighty Herself playing one of Her little games. All they knew was that they was pinned to a wall and Gabriel’s hands grabbed their hair tightly. This shouldn’t elicit such a response from them but it did. Every touch was electric. They started loudly moaning when he bit the side of their neck.

They didn’t know who did the undressing. It was part demonic – part angelic miracles and also a lot of fumbling hands.

What they did know was that their back was against a wall, strong heavenly hands supporting the back of their thighs by now while their ankles were crossed just across Gabriel’s middle back. And they were being fucked within an inch of their life.

Maybe it took five minutes and maybe it took five centuries but, before they knew it, stars exploded behind their eyelids while they intoned his name reverently as if in prayer. It should have burned. _Demons didn’t pray_. It didn’t burn. It felt absolutely sublime.

The next time they were responsive they were sprawled all over the bed and the fucker was kissing their calves slowly going upwards. _God damn it! Satan damn it! Somebody please just damn it_ because it felt heavenly.

Their breath hitched when he arrived at his destination and then they zoned out once again. They regained their bearings a very long while later.

He was laying by their side with an elbow propped up and his chin in the palm of his hand, looking at them with a hard to describe expression painted on his face while his other hand was drawing lazy circles on one of their arms.

They remembered the phone-call they had had with Dagon and forced back the smile that was surely going to present itself. This was just mindless shagging with a little dinner thrown in every now and again. It wouldn’t do to be anything else. For either of their sakes. They said as much, while biting back what they really wanted to say.

‘This is zzztrictly zzex, I hope you are aware.’

‘Of course it is.’

They threw him a weird look.

‘I swear. Angels are big on swears, you know. What else would it even be?’ Gabriel replied, by now his back turned to them as he pulled his turtleneck over his head. ‘Angels and demons fraternising with each other like that? Liking each other? All because of some carnal pleasures? Hah. But I do sort of get it now. Why those two did it. It _is_ very pleasurable.’

He turned around to throw them a wide smile. It was met by an icy expression.

‘Yeah, sure. Pleazzurable. Five o’clock on Tuesday then?’

He didn’t know why, but something in their tone was very off. He also didn’t know why he suddenly felt a knot in his chest. _It had been pleasurable, hadn’t it?_ And they were establishing a next meeting. When it would be equally so. _So why did he want to give everything up and just gather them up in his arms and stay like that forever?_ Surely that wouldn’t elicit the same reaction it did when he had pinned them to the wall not even three hours ago. _So what was it?_ Also, he couldn’t make head nor tails of their demeanour right now. They _had also enjoyed it, no?_ If not, he would try twice as hard next time. But they seemed sad. _Why was that?_

‘I was thinking maybe -’

‘Gabe,’ they said on a very exhausted tone. He didn’t even snarl at that. He never did that anymore. He almost saw it like a term of endearment. ‘Please just go.’

He furrowed his brow and took in the surroundings, at a loss about doing anything else. He found that that grounded him. And he had to do something if he was not focusing his attention on them. And he couldn’t do that for the moment, for fear of doing or saying something extraordinarily stupid.

‘Might think of moving, Bee. It’s rather damp in here.’

They placed the heels of their palms over their eyes and sighed.

‘Just _go_.’

He opened his mouth and he looked like he might object. But then he nodded slightly and was off without any other remark. He didn’t even look back, but he did stop for a brief second in the door frame.

They thought for certain that he’ll turn back and say something so they got up in a proper sitting position.

He didn’t.

He sighed and closed the door behind him. They fought back a sob. And then they stayed like that, perched up on the bed and staring intensely at the door for what felt like hours but was most probably a couple of minutes.

After Gabriel was gone, Beelzebub threw themself back on the bed and they turned over, their back to the doorway as they hugged their knees to their chest tightly. They wanted to scream. They wanted so much more than that, actually. They settled for crying instead. Not that they would admit it to anyone, ever. Proper demons didn’t cry. _Well_ , they supposed _they had never been a proper demon to begin with_.

 _Why was his admission so painful?_ It was what _they_ had told _him_ it will be in the first place. It was what they decided together. _No. Not even that_. They had decided for them both. _So why did it hurt so much to hear those words out of his mouth?_ It felt like a dagger to the heart and they had had their fair share of those back in the day when Hell wasn’t so bureaucratic.

They told themself they’d never get attached, especially not to an angel and especially not to Gabriel, _that useless sod._

But they couldn’t help but picture his perfect figure, his wide smile when he thought they didn’t look at him, how his eyes lit up whenever he looked at them, the noises he made when he was kissing them, the way his hands felt on their sides moving ever so reverently.

_It was all fake. Just mindless sex apparently._

They should be glad. That meant none of them was in any danger. No feelings involved. _That’s what Dagon had said, wasn’t it?_ That they shouldn’t develop feelings for the git. And up until her phone-call with Dagon they had been sure they hadn’t. They had been sure they were just tempting the angel.

But they couldn’t lie to themself, not anymore. They couldn’t tell themself that they didn’t light up entirely when they saw that stupid face, each and every time. That they didn’t want to spend every moment with the bastard. That they hated it every time when they told him to sod off for the night instead of urging him to stay. Instead of spending the night in a tight embrace with that dumb fuck. _Why were they even thinking about this? And how come it affected them so much?_ Somehow it felt right in a way that nothing else had ever felt in their very long life. They loved the fucker. _How was that even possible?_ Demons didn’t love. Were incapable of it. _It was unheard of._

 _Why were they even a demon in the first place? What had they done wrong?_ They would have been able to love that feathery bastard freely if they hadn’t Fallen. They would have been free of prying eyes. They wouldn’t need to hide themselves in greasy diners and sleazy motels and that horrible flat they had rented down in some basement. They could have wandered in the park or went to the beach or could have visited any of those cities on the most visited place of the year lists. _They hated this_. Hated themself for feeling this in the first place. _Demons shouldn’t feel love!_ But they also hated the whole lot of them for making this impossible. _And what if they did anyway?_ He had been quite clear about it. _Just a mindless shag_. That’s all they were. _Wasn’t that a laugh_ , when they had been the one to propose it in the first place? _Ha, bloody ha._

Serves them right to be one of the Fallen and aspire to nice things. Serves them right for not minding their own place and questioning authority.

_What was so bad about questioning things in the first place? What had they done that was so horrid, so abysmal, so wretched that had the powers that be decide to torture them so?_

They tried remembering. They closed their eyes and concentrated. And, sure enough, as soon as the first images started filling their mind, a sharp rod was pushed inside their brain. At least that’s what it always felt like. _They couldn’t even have that._ Not even a trace of their memories from Before. _Oh, God must be the cruellest being in this whole blasted universe_. They sobbed some more about nothing in particular and then their thoughts started shifting towards Gabriel yet again.

_This is strictly sex, I hope you are aware._

_Of course it is._

_What else would it even be?_

Of course it was. _Wasn’t it?_ Weren't they the one to put that label on it, in the first place? So why were they aching so much for it to be something else? _Something more._ They could label it whatever they wished for in their own mind but that was all it was to him. Some mindless pastime to stop himself from getting bored. To occupy his schedule before being recalled Upstairs. Because of course he would be, eventually. They both knew it. They both knew this couldn’t last. And here they were developing feelings for the sod. _Why were they doing that?_ They had thicker skin than this, they knew they had.

They cursed at themself and rolled over, by now on their back and staring at the long crack in the ceiling. _The bastard was right, though_. They really needed to move out. It was cold and damp and mouldy. _Much like Hell, actually_. Why had they chosen this place in particular? Was it because they felt like they didn’t deserve anything else? They knew they did. _Well_ , hoped so at least. But after thousands upon thousands of years of having _‘you don’t matter’_ , ‘ _you’re scum’_ , _‘you don’t even deserve to crawl upon the surface of the Earth’_ battered into their skull, they had no idea anymore.

That’s why Gabriel’s words had hurt so much.

Because it was for the first time that they had told themself that this was something that they deserved and actually believed it _. And for what?_ It was just mindless sex for the Archangel. _Why in Satan’s name had they ever thought that he could perceive them as more than a casual shag_ , they had no idea. _Haha, that was a laugh_. Them, a worthless demon, being seen as anything but that by one of the prim and proper angels of the Lord - _that had to be the stupidest idea their mind could have come up with maybe ever._

So maybe they shouldn’t move after all. They didn’t deserve nice things. _They never had_. They didn’t deserve whatever they wanted or hoped from Gabriel. So they would be content with the scraps. Maybe just a casual shag would be enough then.

They got up from the bed and started looking for their clothes. They were thrown all over the place. As soon as they caught sight of their waistcoat, they grabbed it and pulled the soft white feather out and started stroking it affectionately. They closed their eyes and basked in the feeling of safety that the feather emanated.

Some hazy images started forming under their eyelids.

Huge white wings draped around them as someone was shouting. Strong hands gripping their shoulders. They were being told something. They chased the memory of what exactly was uttered until they felt the sharp pain yet again and stumbled over, falling on the ground on their knees and gripping their temples tightly.

It hurt like all of the nine circles of Hell put together, but they wouldn’t give up. They’ll always try and chase those memories. The things that made them _them_. More than the thousands of years spent Downstairs. They knew they were something more than that. They just had to find out what. Needed to, desperately. And they would, even if it was the last thing they did. Neither Heaven nor Hell would stop them in their quest to find out everything about their true nature.

‘Neither Heaven nor Hell,’ they whispered to themself as they placed their palms on their temples and rolled over on the floor from all of the pain.

‘Fuck this! Fuck You, You bitch! I will remember this no matter what it takes!’ they yelled at the ceiling and got several more thumps and angry insults from the floor above out of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just finished writing a particularly sad chapter that relates to this one directly so having to edit this one out and post it was particularly harrowing. Such is life, I suppose.  
> Play stupid games - win stupid prizes. Write sad stuff - don't be shocked when they make you feel sad :))


	22. Somebody to love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I promised you fluff.  
> Well, I lied, apparently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still angst central over here but at least Aziraphale is trying. And Crowley does his best to let him in even if his best is not that good.  
> And we get Warlock :D

‘I’ve had enough of the fussing, angel, I’m going to go and see Warlock. Don’t you have some books to look at or something?’

Aziraphale couldn’t object to that. He knew that whenever Crowley was feeling particularly vulnerable he liked spending time with kids. It took his mind off things.

And he had been feeling rather vulnerable as of late since they were no closer to uncovering the relevance of the dreams and if there was any meaning to the particular bits and pieces that he remembered.

***

 _It had all started that morning when they woke up._ Or when Crowley woke up _, at least._

 _Aziraphale had been awake for hours gently stroking one of Crowley’s wings as the demon shivered in his sleep and mumbled a lot of indiscernible nonsense. He was dreaming again and Aziraphale knew better than to wake him up. He had made that mistake twice now, thinking it was probably a nightmare and wanting to soothe Crowley to the best of his abilities. Both times Crowley reacted with a groan and a wail about how “_ we were just getting to the good bit. They were about to say my name” _and then continued to mope throughout the day._

_So instead he just held him tightly to his chest and stroked his hair and wings, hoping whatever it was Crowley would remember wouldn’t be too painful this time._

_‘What are you doing?’ Crowley asked on a sleepy voice when he finally woke up._

_Aziraphale stilled his hand as he felt the wing under it stiffen completely._

_‘Um, your wings popped up at some point during the night and I guess I just couldn’t help myself. They are just so beautiful.’_

_Crowley very obviously winced and miracled his wings safely tuckered away in the pocket dimension they were kept in at all times._

_Then he got up into a proper sitting position, his back turned to the angel as he rested his elbows on his knees and looked down at his feet with a pained expression._

_‘Knock it off, angel. We both know they’re not.’_

_‘Well pardon me for just finding that out about myself. I’d have never known,’ Aziraphale said on a mock hurt tone of voice and placed a soothing palm on one of Crowley’s shoulder blades, right where his wings would be if they were still on the Earthly plane. Crowley winced some more and twitched for a bit._

_In the months that followed the failed Apocalypse Aziraphale had learned via carefully observing that Crowley’s preferred sleeping attire didn’t seem to include anything above the waist at all times. This was the case at the moment, as well._

_He had inquired why that was at some point and had been told that he was warm and Crowley wanted to feel that warmth as close to his skin as possible. Which was rather silly, since Aziraphale himself always wore proper pyjamas to bed. It was not like he was some sort of pleb, or anything. But that had been that._

_He felt how Crowley’s shoulders tensed up so he also got into a sitting position and wrapped his arms around him from behind, placing his chin on one of the demon’s shoulders and kissing his cheek._

_‘Just give it a rest, please. I know you love me, even if I really don’t get why, but let’s not pretend they are either beautiful or worthy.’_

_‘Worthy of what, darling?’_

_‘Of you touching them,’ Crowley grumbled after a while._

_‘Again with this nonsense?’_

_‘Mmm.’_

_‘Crowley, all parts of you are beautiful. I’ve told you a thousand times and I will tell you a thousand more. Or until you start believing that I mean every word._ No _. Even after you start believing me. For a long time after. I’ll never get tired of telling you how beautiful you are to me. How kind and wonderful and caring you are.’_

_If Aziraphale’s arms hadn’t been completely wrapped around his waist he would have gotten up and stormed out of the room. But they were and the angel had always been the more powerful out of the two of them so he was kept firmly in place._

_‘Angel, please…’_

_‘I’m not having it Crowley. You are staying here and you are listening to every word I’m saying until you get it in that thick skull of yours that I wouldn’t change anything about you for the world.’_

_‘But I was an angel. A proper one. Like you are. How would you not prefer that?’_

_‘Was it one of the dreams? That got you so upset again?’_

_‘Mmm.’_

_Aziraphale started gently kissing his shoulder._

_‘Do you want to talk about it?’_

_‘Mmm.’_

_‘Whenever you’re ready, darling. I’m here.’_

_It seemed like it took the rest of eternity for Crowley to speak again._

_‘I’ve just been assigned my position, angel. Starmaker. God spoke to me. I…no...I don’t think I can do this. I’m sorry…’_

_‘You have nothing to be sorry about, my dear. Would you like to take a shower? I know those are relaxing for you. I could wash your hair?’_

_Crowley glanced down at himself and only now seemed to realise that he was drenched in sweat and shivering slightly._ Oh, he must be so disgusting.

_‘I…I think I’d like that.’_

_‘Good. Since I plan on pampering you all day. Now up you go.’_

_Getting the water to the perfect temperature for Crowley’s tastes (i.e. scalding) was a quick job. So was undressing and stepping inside the magically enlarged cabin that fit the two of them perfectly._

_By the time the spray washed over them and he placed his cheek on Crowley’s chest gently rubbing at his shoulder blades he felt that the demon was visibly more relaxed. By the time he had finished washing Crowley’s glorious hair that now fell around his face in crimson rivulets, Crowley felt like putty in the angel’s hands._

_‘Feeling better?’_

_‘Mhm.’_

_‘Good. Now put on some clothes. I’m going to make breakfast,’ Aziraphale gave him another peck on the cheek and wandered off, presumably to put on some clothes of his own._

_Crowley spent a lot of time looking at himself in the bathroom mirror and taking it all in._

_It didn’t even matter that he was freezing by now, hair still damp and the towel that Aziraphale had presented him with still in his hand, unused._

_He was all angles and edges and elbows and knees._ What exactly did the angel find even remotely beautiful about that? _He felt small and insignificant and…damaged._

 _Then he had a long hard stare at his eyes only for those serpentine monstrosities to stare back at him and his jaw clenched._ No, not even going there.

 _He pulled out his wings yet again and started carefully grooming them._ Sure, they were not white, as they should have been, but that was no reason for them not to be kept in perfect working condition. _Not to mention that grooming them always calmed him down._

 _When he was satisfied with the result, he miracled himself dry, hair included, and pulled it back into a low bun. He at least liked his hair._ Always had. It was one of his best features _, he mused as he stared some more into snake eyes and miracled a pair of sunglasses on. He knew Aziraphale’s policy about sunglasses indoors but he just couldn’t do it. Not today. He pointed his finger at the mirror and started hissing._

'You stupid, _stupid_ bastard! You are doing this to yourself. To the both of you. And how is the angel at fault for your stupid shit? Why should he put up with it? Stop this never ending pattern of feeling sorry for yourself and get a grip already. Aziraphale will get tired of having to pick up the pieces eventually and he will leave you and then what will you do? _Hmm?_ Yeah. That’s what I thought.'

_He ended his monologue with a growl and went downstairs to the kitchen._

_Aziraphale welcomed him with a sweet smile and a peck on the cheek and urged him to sit down while he continued pottering around._

_A plate with two sunny-side up eggs and two strips of bacon was placed in front of him. And then a cup of espresso that Aziraphale had learned to make just the way he liked it. And then a glass of orange juice and a cup of tea._

_Crowley raised his eyebrow at that last addition. The angel knew he didn’t drink tea if he could help it._

_‘It’s chamomile,’ Aziraphale offered as if that was explanation enough._

_He kept his eyebrow raised._

_‘It’s good for you. Calms the nerves,’ the angel added and, before any word of protest could be uttered, Crowley was rudely interrupted by a cheerful “ping” coming from the oven._

_‘I made muffins,’ Aziraphale declared while retrieving the tray and placing it on the kitchen island in front of Crowley. ‘They’re blueberry. I know you like those.’_

_‘Angel, really, there’s no need to go to all the trouble.’_

_‘Nonsense. Now shut up and eat your breakfast.’_

_Crowley grumbled a bit but ate it anyway._

_A small plate with a still warm muffin was pushed in front of him as he finished the eggs and it was at this particular moment that Crowley realised the angel wasn’t eating anything. Didn’t even have a cup of tea._

There you go! You have him worried sick, you arsehole. Now you’ve gone and done it, haven’t you?

_He commented on Aziraphale’s culinary exploits and was quickly shushed with “I’ll make some cocoa later” and that was that._

_It was when the angel tried taking off his glasses that he snapped._

_‘I’ve had enough of the fussing, angel, I’m going to go and see Warlock. Don’t you have some books to look at or something?’_

***

He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth, but it was too late now, he told himself as he climbed inside the Bentley and took off.

He was feeling weak and small and…hurting. And he hated himself for feeling that way. He hated himself for wanting Aziraphale to go out of his way each time he felt like that. He _should_ feel like that. _He was a demon_. He hated the fact that he needed a pep-talk each and every time. _Demons didn’t do pep-talks._

 _It was probably for the best, anyway_. Who knew what ghastly things he’d say to Aziraphale if he stayed inside the house the whole day, watching the angel try and coddle him like a mother hen.

 _No, it was certainly better like this_. Going for a drive to clear his head off and then doing some dumb kid shit with Warlock would put him in a much more tolerable mood.

He took his phone out and dialled the little menace’s number. He pondered texting but, demon or not, texting and driving was a bit low, even for him.

‘Hi. Lock? D’ya wanna go out today?’

He checked the date. It was a Saturday. _Good._

‘Dunno. Where do you want to go?’

He nearly missed a couple of people cycling on the side of the road but was happy to see that one of them panicked and fell in a ditch in his rear view mirror. _Fucking bicycles._

‘Yeah, that sounds good, Lock. Pick you up in an hour. Tell your mum. I don’t want the repeat of last time. She nearly bit my head off.’

***

Aziraphale looked at the departing Bentley and sighed.

He wondered how many times he had to tell Crowley that _no, this wasn’t inconveniencing him in the slightest and no, he didn’t hate taking care of him, he rather liked it actually. And yes, it was alright to feel vulnerable. It was alright to want to get treated right and cared for and loved._

He knew by now that Crowley would come back at the end of the day with flowers and some pastry or other and apologise. It always went like this, after all. Crowley would feel vulnerable and then he would care for him and then Crowley would feel guilty about being vulnerable and would lash out. Then he’d spend the day away and come back a new demon. And on and on it went.

Spending the day out with Warlock always did him a world of good too since, despite everything he said, he cared for the little devil quite a lot. And the boy was so full of questions that Crowley had no time to listen to his destructive thoughts.

Aziraphale made himself a cup of cocoa and started to look around the kitchen to see what he could make for dinner. He should make something simple, a home-cooked meal that would make Crowley feel right at home.

He’d go for roast beef with peas and mash. And he’d have to pop over to the village and buy some of those dark chocolates he knew Crowley liked despite him saying he didn’t even like food. _He had a sweet tooth_ , of that the angel was certain. There was no other possible explanation for the boxes of chocolates that he bought in quite a large number to be empty and carefully concealed at the back of the kitchen cabinet a few days after he bought them. Crowley vehemently denied having any connection with that, but he knew better.

***

_The Warlock thing had happened quite naturally after Crowley had casually declared one day, two weeks after the near End-of-Days, that they’d better pop in and see how the little rascal was doing._

_Aziraphale smiled widely at him, brighter than the sun, and put an arm around Crowley’s as they were walking in St James’._

_‘You do still have a little good inside you, my dear.’_

_‘I resent that. I had a little good inside me last night, though. And there’s no need to sell yourself short, angel. It’s not that littl – Ouch! What was that for?’ he massaged his ribs and pouted a bit._

_‘Do behave. We’re in public after all.’_

_‘So? Being a proper angel in the streets, eh? Cause I know that doesn’t happen under the shee - Ow! Will you stop it with the elbowing?’_

_‘Not until you behave. And we both know what I mean. You love that boy.’_

_‘Nah, I only love you, angel. Demons don’t do love. Especially not weak human children. It’s preposterous.’_

_Aziraphale rolled his eyes._

_‘You’re preposterous. Why else would we visit him if you don’t care for the boy?’_

_‘Cause Warlock’s a project of mine and I don’t like to leave my projects unfinished. Remember the M25?’_

_‘Mhm. For all the good that did you.’_

_‘Oh, shut up. I didn’t know that the End of the World was coming. And neither did you for that matter. You congratulated me at the time, as I seem to recall. And even bloody Hamlet. Started out as a favour to you, but now millions of kids worldwide get tortured with that crap. I would say that’s pretty demonic, wouldn’t you? I am very pleased with myself.’_

_‘They don’t get tortured. They get to experience a masterpiece and are properly taught how to best understand it.’_

_‘You should try talking to some of them. Not sure you’d get the reaction you’d expect. Or any of them being particularly grateful for having to read that shite.’_

_‘Crowley, I’m really not in the mood. Will was wonderful.’_

_‘Damn thief is what he was. What were we talking about?’_

_‘Young master Warlock.’_

_‘Naha, The Warlock Project.’_

_‘Call it what you will. I know you are a soft demon at heart. And there will be more elbowing if you go on ranting about four letter words,’ he warned as soon as Crowley opened his mouth to object. He closed it and then pouted for a bit, contemplating what other innuendos he could torment the angel with._

***

The Warlock Project himself was sitting cross-legged on the pavement of the driveway looking bored and playing something on his phone as the Bentley drew to a halt. There was a security guard posted next to the entrance who was keeping an eye on him, Crowley noted. _Looks like his mother couldn’t be bothered. Again._

Making their way back in Warlock’s life has been a rather easy feat. _It tends to be when you’re an angel and a demon who can basically miracle anything._

Mrs. Dowling was now of the firm belief that her son’s nanny has always been a man although she couldn’t, for the life of her, understand how she had let that happen in the first place, gender-roles quite firmly rooted in her mind. That oaf of a father of his didn’t even know how his nanny looked as he never spent enough time with the kid. The other servants of the household were also, as of three months ago, of the firm belief that Crowley was and always has been presenting as male. They had a nagging feeling however that Aziraphale was somehow lacking in the teeth department and always seemed to call him Francis for some reason, but that was just a minor inconvenience.

‘Hop in, kid,’ Crowley called as he rolled down his window.

Warlock looked up, trying his hardest to seem just as bored as two minutes ago and failing. The days spent out with Crowley were the best and most fun he ever got to experience and they both knew it but kept it to themselves.

‘Hi, Crowley,’ he said as he got inside the car and flipped the security guard off.

‘That’s not very nice of you,’ Crowley said but couldn’t fight back a smirk as they drove off.

‘I’m getting morality lessons from a demon now, is that it?’

***

 _Warlock had known there was something terribly off about his Nanny ever since he had been seven. Had tried uncovering what exactly that was up until he was nine. Had been shocked to find out from Miranda from second grade that most nannies didn’t sing lullabies about pigs’ blood about that time, as well. Then he proceeded to keep a journal and write down whatever odd behaviours she had exhibited up until his tenth birthday. It was right about that time when he realised the gardener wasn’t acting very…human-like either. He never seemed to do any proper gardening, for once and yet, their yard was pristine. That’s when he started writing out stuff about him too. And a theory started forming in his mind. The theory was that those two were madly in love and would elope together._ And that they were aliens _, but that was of little import. He didn’t tell his mother about any of his findings as he quite liked the both of them and finding out you had aliens in your employ might want to make you want to fire them._

_So when Crowley called him, a couple of months back, his first reaction had been:_

_‘I’m not meeting up with any of you guys until you tell me exactly what you are.’_

_There was a pause._

_Crowley sighed._

_‘Well, dear boy, I’m an angel and he’s a demon,’ Aziraphale’s voice could be heard from the mouthpiece at the same time that Warlock said ‘And what planet you’re coming from.’_

_‘What?’_

_‘What?’_

_‘Um, I think we need to have this talk face to face, Lock.’_

_‘Course. I’ll just tell my mum you’re dropping by,’ he said and ended the call._

_‘What planet…? The imagination these kids have, I swear…’_

_‘Don’t sweat it, angel. At least he already knew something was amiss. Smart kid.’_

***

Warlock was looking at him with narrowed eyes as he drove them both towards the amusement park.

‘You’ve got a hickey.’

‘I what?’

‘A hickey. You’ve got one,’ Warlock supplied and pointed to his own neck.

_Of all the times Aziraphale felt like doing that..._

Well, he supposed none of them knew he’d be visiting Warlock today.

‘Who taught you about that sort of thing?’

‘Sarah, from fencing lessons.’

‘Fencing less – Aaargh! I swear your parents are getting more ridiculous by the day.’

‘I know. You still have a hickey, though.’

‘Yeah, well, Sarah from fencing lessons should bloody shut up about stuff.’

‘Whatever. Fencing's boring. Sarah’s boring as well,’ Warlock crossed his arms and pouted for a bit. ‘Why don’t you drop by anymore?’

‘I told you, Lock, I moved to the countryside with the angel. It takes a while to drive to London. But whenever we come to the city, you know we try and visit you.’

‘And now you two guys had a row.’

‘We what?’

‘I know you always call me out of the blue and try to do something fun when you guys fight.’

_The kid was too smart for his own good._

‘You’re not breaking up or something?’

‘I…no, _no_ of course not!’

‘Good. Cause mum and dad want to split up and that’s shit.’

‘Lock!’

‘It is. It’s bullshit! And, before you ask, no, Sarah didn’t tell me that. I heard it from you.’

Crowley fought back a hiss.

‘Listen, kid, I may not have been the best nanny at times. Or at all, for that matter. But you can’t just say stuff like that when you’re eleven.’

‘I can say whatever. And it is. And they argue all the time and I’d rather spend time with you two.’

‘You will, kid. I promise. Now what do you say to some candy floss and roller-coasters?’

‘That sounds fun, I guess.’

‘Good. Cause we are going to have fun today.’

***

It was just as Aziraphale had assumed, he noted as the door to the cottage opened to reveal a pitiful-looking Crowley carrying a bouquet of more than a dozen white roses and a carton of fine pastries from Aziraphale’s favourite french café.

‘Darling, you know you shouldn’t have.’

‘I wanted to, angel. I acted like a knob.’

‘You never. Come here,’ he added and pulled the demon into a tight hug. ‘I’ll go put these in a vase and you can sit down. I made us dinner.’

Crowley buried his face in the crook of Aziraphale’s neck.

‘Why are you like this?’

‘Like what, my dear?’

‘So nice to me. I don’t d-’

‘I will have none of that tonight. You will be ruining a perfectly good evening. Glasses off, please. And sit down. I’ll bring everything to the table in a jiffy.’

Crowley complied and then sat down, chin perched in his palm, elbow resting on the surface of the kitchen island while he looked at his angel adoringly.

Aziraphale hummed as he went about and put two plates together. Then he placed the vase with the roses just in between the two of them, fought back the urge to light a candle because he knew how Crowley felt about them and sat down opposite his partner, gently stroking one of his hands.

 _What the ever-loving fuck did I do to deserve this_ , Crowley thought but didn’t ponder on it, fearing that the powers that be would sense his doubt and then take it all away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose), you are a marvel, as always! Best person I ever met thus far!


	23. My Melancholy Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ending of Act I. Beginning of Act II.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or, in a more detailed way of putting it:  
> We have our first encounter between two of our mains.  
> I will still try keeping the format from now on to the best of my abilities, but from this chapter onward all bets are off.  
> The story has reached too many characters and plot points to be able to keep one Bee/Gabe vs one Aziraphale/Crowley chapter for the oncoming part.  
> Act I was just setting the scene. Act II is where everything takes off. Hope it pays off!

Aziraphale had wanted to go and check on his bookshop. _Well, more like book storage at the moment_ , but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Crowley was taking Warlock out for ice-cream in the meantime.

Their visits to London seemed to increase after the day he had spent with the young boy at the amusement park. He could feel that the divorce was taking its toll on Warlock and wanted to be there for him. Aziraphale didn’t comment on that. No four-letter words were used. He just came up with various excuses why he himself wanted to visit London whenever he noticed that the demon was becoming restless so as to save him the embarrassment. They were probably both acutely aware of what was happening but they both had the decency to keep quiet about it.

Crowley had told him to meet up at this old and decrepit looking pub. He didn’t much care for it, but they were always doing whatever Aziraphale liked so he supposed he could, once in a while, do what Crowley wanted as well. So, in he went, frowning slightly at the state of the tables. There were cup rings everywhere and they all looked very sticky. He sat down at one of them regardless. _Why did Crowley want to have dinner here, of all places?_ Oh, he had said something about the quality of the whiskies. And the fact that the barman didn’t ask too many questions. _Questions about what, exactly?_

He adjusted his bow tie and gave a little wiggle as he started studying the menu. And then he lifted his eyes to signal to the barkeep and froze. _Literally froze._

There, by the end of the bar, stood none other than Lord Beelzebub, Crowley’s former employer and active Prince of Hell.

_Oh shit._

He had to think of something and he had to think of it fast before Crowley came waltzing in through the door.

Unbeknownst to him, Crowley would do no actual waltzing in since he was, for the moment, stuck in a traffic jam and would continue to be stuck for quite some time. He had gone and made some trouble down on the tube after dropping Warlock off because he couldn’t miss this opportunity for causing a little mischief and, as of such, the whole of London was stuck in gridlock. _Evil plants the seed of its own destruction, indeed._

He had no idea what to do. He couldn’t get up. Movement would surely attract attention. He couldn’t stay there either. A million thoughts swam through his mind as he stared quite insistently at the demon.

Said demon was sampling one of those famous whiskies Crowley went on about. Had been doing so for a while, judging by the near empty bottle in front of them.

They felt a very persistent stare bearing down on them so they lifted their eyes from their glass and met Aziraphale’s.

‘Out of all the pubs, for fuck’s sake…’ Aziraphale heard them groan in annoyance.

‘What is it you want, angel? Came here to smirk?’

This was the second time in his existence when he was being accused of smirking by a demon but right now he had no idea what he was supposed to be gloating about.

‘Aziraphale. My name’s Aziraphale,’ he said, shell shocked. He had no idea why he actually engaged in conversation with someone who had literally signed Crowley’s death sentence but there he was. Maybe it was because he didn’t want anyone else but Crowley to call him ‘angel’. Maybe because he didn’t understand why exactly Beelzebub wasn’t making any attempts on his life. Maybe because of the gloating comment that signalled something was very wrong with the demon. Or maybe it was just ineffable, to begin with.

‘I know what your fucking name is, angel. You stopped the fucking Apocalypse, you’d think you’d get some notoriety after pulling shit like that.’

The bartender threw them a wary look. Beelzebub sighed and snapped their fingers. The bartender went back to cleaning glasses, a hazy expression on his face.

‘Do you want some?’ they said pointing to the bottle of whisky.

Aziraphale was still frozen on the spot. _What exactly was happening?_

‘Come on, I’m not gonna burn you in Hellfire or anything. Not for lack of trying, though.’

He let out a breathy laugh. Had to keep the charade up.

‘It’s very good whisky. And I’m feeling generous today for whatever fucking reason,’ they fought back a snort.

‘Crowley said the same thing,’ Aziraphale mouth provided before his brain could catch up to it. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ Did all of his brain cells commit mass suicide all of a sudden?

Beelzebub tensed and closed their eyes with a sigh.

‘Don’t bring him up, pleaze. He is the bane of my exizzztence.’

They sounded tired. Exhausted even. Done with, definitely. They didn’t sound like someone who would do much torturing or violent killing.

Aziraphale could feel when someone was in obvious distress and the hurt radiated off Beelzebub in waves, so he did whatever he did best – he tried to comfort them. He was an angel after all, so it was ingrained in his very being.

He got up from the table and approached the bar taking the seat next to the Prince of Hell.

They eyed him dubiously and then pushed the bottle towards him.

‘No funny business,’ they warned.

‘None whatsoever, I swear. I’m an angel, we take things like this seriously.’

‘Hah, don’t you all.’

He frowned a bit at their quip but refrained from commenting.

He caught the barkeep’s eye and waved him over.

‘Another glass please. And some fish and chips, do be a dear.’

The barkeep looked at them both a bit warily. The lady was on her third bottle of whisky. He had served a lot of drinks in his life but this was bonkers. She should be in a coma by now. He only had another customer who was able to manage that feat and he was always very prone to rambling something about his angel. _Angel…why did that ring a bell?_ Giving her a one over he entertained the possibility that the two black-clad people knew each other. They did look similar, all dark and broody like that. And this new patron – he looked like something out of a Dickens novel. He saw a lot of weird things over the years while tending the bar and these two were filed into the weird category from the get go. _Live and let live_ , he supposed. So he nodded and was off to the kitchens.

‘How are you finding life on Earth, angel? Do you find it to your liking? Is it everything you wished for after screwing everyone over like that? After you completely rendered my job useless and made every demon in Hell question my authority? Making my own life on Earth shit in the process.’

He cringed.

‘Please stop calling me that.’

They threw him a Look.

‘And why is that, _angel_?’

‘You did just say not to bring him up,’ Aziraphale provided as he filled his newly received glass with some of that apparently good whisky.

They groaned. _How were those two so in tune?_ How did this particular angel manage to love a demon? _One of the damned. The unforgivable. The sullied_. They felt like they were going to retch and it wasn’t from the three bottles. They were thinking about Gabriel and how easy it had been for him to dismiss the whole thing as if they were just this toy you played with for a while and then went and found some other more interesting toys and forgot all about them.

Aziraphale downed his glass, ordered another bottle and inspected them thoroughly.

‘You seem to be under a lot of emotional strain.’

‘Hah! The understatement of the century.’

‘What happened?’

‘You two wankers. I thought that was clear by now,’ they said, deflecting.

‘I really don’t think so. I’m an angel. We can feel love. And I can feel a lot of love coming from you. I think this is about something else entirely.’

Sure, he had wondered a great deal about what that strange feeling he got every time he encountered Crowley throughout history had been. Had wondered for centuries. Then he thought he put two and two together but was too terrified of ever broaching the subject. But ever since their dinner date at the Ritz he knew for sure that that was how demons projected love onto others. It felt different from human love. But then again, so did the angelic version of it. He knew how a demon felt when they experienced it, that brainwashing from Upstairs be damned. And it was all rather familiar to him now.

‘You can _WHAT_?’

‘Feel…love?’

‘Fucking son of a bitch!’

‘Oh dear, I think there’s no need for that kind of language.’

‘The Hell it ain’t! I will skin that bastard alive next time I see him.’

They let the ‘dear’ part drop for the moment. Even if it was a general ‘oh, dear’ it still felt very personal.

‘I’m not sure who you’re talking about but that’s not very nice, is it?’

They laughed out loud.

‘Nice? I’m a demon. We’re not supposed to be nice.’

The barkeep threw them another questioning stare and Beelzebub snapped their fingers once more. His eyes were glazed over. He would get Alzheimer’s in his fifties if he continued to listen in on their conversations like that.

‘Would it warm your angelic heart if I told you the actual angel I want to skin alive is none other than your old boss himself? It would, wouldn’t it, since he was the mastermind behind your trial.’

It did, sort of. Aziraphale often wondered about Gabriel stepping into that column of Hellfire. But now he had thousands upon thousands of questions.

‘What trial?’ was the first one.

‘The one back in Heaven, obviously.’

‘There was no trial.’

Beelzebub’s face fell. _No trial_. So pretty much like the good old days then. They hated the angel for making them feel so helpless before all of Hell. But, at the same time they sympathised with him being fed to the wolves just like that. No trial. Even Hell thought of giving Crowley a trial. _Yeah, okay, it was a hoax_. I _was_ Hell, after all. It was only to be expected. Heaven apparently had different thoughts on the matter.

‘No trial…’ they mumbled.

‘You were the people doing the good thing for once. At least that’s what Crowley said,’ he added, farce needing to be kept. ‘You gave him one and, even if it was rigged from the very beginning, at least it had the semblance of justice. Nothing like that Upstairs as I’m sure you are well aware.’

They looked at him with a dazed expression. Really looked at him. He looked soft and frail and _nice_. He wasn’t any of those things, it turned out.

‘I’m going to drink myself into a stupor,’ they announced and started drinking directly from the bottle.

That didn’t seem very sanitary so he ordered yet another bottle.

‘You were saying earlier. About Gabriel.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Why do you want to skin him alive. Not that I’d mind much.’

They snorted.

‘None of you angels are what you’re cracked up to be. Bastards, the whole lot of you.’

‘Yes, well,’ he said primly and adjusted his bow tie some more. It was something he often did when he was feeling uncomfortable.

‘Said you could feel love. Can all of you? Can Gabriel?’

Aziraphale had an inkling about where this was going and _boy, oh boy_ it was going to be a bumpy ride.

‘I don’t think he even understands the notion,’ he said, straight faced.

Beelzebub laughed out loud. This earned them another glance from the bartender and earned him another snap from Beelzebub.

‘You really are a bastard, aren’t you? Can see why the traitor likes you. Trash talking other angels. Pricelezzz.’

‘Well he’s not a particularly nice angel, now is he?’

‘Apparently you aren’t one either.’

Aziraphale raised a hand to his chest apparently shocked that they should imply such a thing.

‘Oh, don’t get your wings in a twist. You’re alright,’ they waved their hand to dismiss the whole deal. ‘Hah, if Hell could see me now. Second angel I associate myself with. Fucking useless demon.’

‘My dear, don’t be so harsh on yourself. Demons are of angel stock as well, are they not?’

They winced and then they covered their face with both hands.

Aziraphale wanted to curse himself. He had no idea how the ‘my dear’ slipped out. You simply didn’t address the Prince of Hell with ‘dear’. It wasn’t something you did. But they reminded him of Crowley when he went down on his tangents. About being damned and unlovable and all of that nonsense and his default programming was to soothe hurt people. Well, _demons_ , apparently.

‘Why are you being zzzo... _nice_?’ they spat the last word out.

 _‘I’m an angel – we’re supposed to be nice’_ was probably the last thing they needed to hear right now.

‘You’re hurt. Visibly so. That’s why.’

‘It’s good to see that at least one angel can tell.’

Aziraphale drew a deep breath and faced the elephant in the room head on.

‘Are you and Gabriel together?’

‘Hah! As if. I’m just a mindless shag to him.’

He looked very surprised about that. Although surprised would be putting it mildly. He looked like the whole world rotated against its axis. _What the Heavens was going on?_

‘You two…’

‘Yeah?’

Another swig was taken from the whiskey bottle.

‘What I mean is…’

‘Yeah?’

‘The nature of your relationship is…’

‘We fuck, angel. Plain and simple.’

He sort of expected it but it hit him like a freight train nonetheless.

‘Um. That is…um.’

He wasn’t being terribly eloquent.

‘Oh, don’t look so shocked. It’s not as if you and the other traitor don’t bang each other’s brains out.’

‘It took us six thousand years!’

‘Huh. Fancy that! And I thought that’s why you stopped the whole bloody thing to begin with.’

‘There’s more to life than just sex. We stopped it because we loved each other. And the Earth,’ he added as an afterthought.

‘Well we don’t. Love each other. We just fuck.’

Aziraphale threw them a dubious look. He could feel love. And he was feeling an awful lot of it. He’d have to test his theory further if he wanted to reach any worthy conclusion. But for that he needed to be near Gabriel. On the other hand, he had no intention to ever see the bastard this eternity or the next. But he was awfully curious.

‘I don’t think you’re being entirely honest here.’

 _‘I’m a demon. We’re not supposed to be honest,’_ was something they wanted to snap at him but they didn’t have the strength to fight it anymore.

‘Shut up,’ is what they said instead.

He did just that and downed another glass. This day only got weirder and weirder by the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually the second thing I wrote for this mess because fuck proper chronology, I guess. So you can imagine how giddy I am finally posting it after so many months.  
> Really hope you enjoyed it. As always, kudos and comments are life :D


	24. Who needs you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's make our least favourite Archangel sad too, why don't we?  
> Second least, for me at least. I hate Michael so much it is hard to put into words.

Gabriel was sitting inside the cafe in the park where he had sat forever ago with Jophiel and Raphael and staring at an espresso. He had grown very fond of those. Although he had grown even more fond of telling people how to prepare them and pointing out that their way was wrong. Bee had taught him that and he drew quite a guilty pleasure out of it.

But today he was just staring at the slowly-turning-cold cup while his thoughts were a million years away. Actually, they were 2 days and 3.4 miles away.

Bee had seemed so sad all of a sudden. He never wanted them to be sad. _Was it something he did? It must have been_ , but he had no idea what exactly that was. They had said it was just sex and despite him wanting to spend the night each time they met up and kiss them silly until the early hours of the morning and maybe have breakfast together afterwards, he never pushed. It was just sex for them so he’d never insist on anything else. He’d always respect their wishes.

It made his chest feel tight. He had heard humans talk about tightness in their chest and it was never good. But they more often then not talked about heart attacks and he was sure he didn’t possess one of those heart things.

He always loved the moments when they fell asleep right after and he could grant himself the small privilege of staying if only for a little while longer, looking down at their porcelain skin as he let his fingers trace up and down their spine as gently as he possibly could for fear of waking them up. His most ardent wish in those moments was to tuck their hair behind their ear and kiss their forehead. _No_ , his most ardent wish was to be able to gather them up in his arms and stay like forever. _Of course, he couldn’t do any of that._ They wouldn’t allow it. They wouldn’t _want_ it, in the first place.

 _Was this…was this how Aziraphale felt about the demon?_ Did he imagine a world where they would be free of Heaven and of Hell? Where they could do whatever they wanted? Lazy mornings in bed and walking in the park hand in hand, fingers intertwined, laughing out loud together without a care in the world? Going to plays and concerts and museums? _To Paris, maybe?_ Apparently that Eiffel Tower thing was quite the romantic spot. He had no idea why an iron tower with no actual purpose was romantic but he wanted to take Bee there. He wanted to take them all around the world instead of hiding in that basement flat of theirs. But even if they only stayed there, he would still be content. _Was this how the traitor angel felt?_ Because, if so…it somehow made more sense than Heaven ever did.

He would defy all of Heaven and Hell for them even if the only thing he got out of it were their little encounters three times a week. Even if it meant nothing to them. If he would be allowed to hold their hand, kiss them, worship them…he had no problem with Falling. He would welcome the brimstone and all of the sulphur pits there were if only to hear their breathy voice recite his name. Even if it was just a delusion, he came up with to soothe the ache in his chest where that heart that he didn’t have would be.

 _Of course, it didn’t mean anything to them_ , but Gabriel knew he had always been a bit out of his depth about a number of things, so why not pretend to be oblivious about this too. As long as they didn’t state it to his face, he could imagine it to be true, he could hope it was true…except, _they had stated it to his face, hadn’t they?_

_‘This is zzztrictly zzex, I hope you are aware.’_

They had stated it in a such casual tone. Maybe to let him down easy. And he had tried being as casual about it as he possibly could, choking down a sob and replying with feigned cheerfulness as he got dressed and left the flat as soon as possible.

 _Aziraphale got to experience that, didn’t he?_ So the whole “demons can’t love” bullshit was just Heaven propaganda. It was just that the one demon he set his eyes on that couldn’t love. _Or wouldn’t love him._ After all… _what was there to love?_ He failed with the Armageddon mission – although he was very very happy that had happened, in the end.

_Ineffable indeed, are you not, God?_

He failed the traitors’ trial – although now it seemed like the proper thing to have happened, judging by his own feelings about Beelzebub. He failed keeping Michael in check. He failed at everything. And the thing he feared the most was that he would fail at protecting Bee if they needed protection. _When_ they needed protection, he mentally added. The whole of the Dark Council was after them. They were just scrabbling for scraps for a limited amount of time. _He was_ , at least. They were just getting a good fuck out of it.

They would soon enough be discovered by their respective sides and then it would be all over. He wanted to tell them… _oh, he wanted to tell them so many things._ _What? What did he want to tell them?_

_You have the softest skin I ever got to touch. The warmest smile – well, maybe not when you’re on the verge of preforming a quick temptation – but all of the other times. Your laugh rang like wind-chimes on the few occasions that I got to hear it. You are the only one who was ever able to get me. To think about me and see more than my function or my choir. To make me laugh. Your eyes are as bright as stars. All I ever want to do in this world is try to make you happy. And I…._

His eyes were moist. _What even was that?_ Was his corporation malfunctioning – he pondered as a drop of something fell in his espresso.

‘Oh, honey! Please stop doing that,’ he heard a soft voice break his train of though and he raised indigo eyes awash with tears to meet turquoise ones.

Jophiel caressed his hair and then took his hand and guided him further back in the cafe. Far from the windows. _Safety precaution_ , he suspected. None of the other angels wanted to be associated with him now. And why would they, anyway? It’s not as if he was particularly good at his job.

***

_When he got back to Heaven after that whole mess at the airfield he went directly to see Michael._

_And Michael had raged, oh, how she had raged. Her office was near unrecognisable by the end of her fit._

_‘Here’s what you are going to do, Gabriel. You are going to get Sandalphon and Uriel and you are going to capture that good for nothing angel and we are going to end him.’_

_‘How can we even do that? We are angels. We don’t die. We just discorporate.’_

_‘You really are thick, aren’t you? Hellfire, obviously. Fuck’s sake…some angels…’_

_‘And how do you propose we get our hands on that?’_

_‘I don’t know. Call your little friend from the airbase?’_

_‘And who might that be?’_

_‘Don’t play cheeky fuckers with me, Gabriel. I am really not in the mood.’_

_‘You mean Lord Beelzebub?’_

_‘Got it in one, sunshine.’_

_‘I…they would never agree to give us Hellfire…’_

_‘Well, use your power of persuasion. And they should give it to us if they want us giving them Holy Water to punish the other traitor.’_

_‘Are you quite certain about this, Michael?’_

_‘Yes. Dead serious. This way we calm down all of the other shits that fidget and talk about changing stuff around here and about angel_ rights _of all things.’_

_Gabriel did have to admit there has been a general feeling of unrest as of late. Which was even more enhanced at the moment seeing as everyone had prepared themselves for war._

_He opened his mouth to say something but Michael was glaring daggers at him._

_‘Fix this!’_

***

_Two days later he had been summoned to Michael’s office again and basically given the boot._

_‘Was that so hard, Gabriel?’ she snarled at him._

_He tried to bring into discussion Michael’s own shocked expression as she had returned from Hell, pitcher still filled with Holy water held as tight as possible and hands trembling slightly._

_‘One mission. Just one thing and you still couldn’t do it.’_

_‘The demon was also…’_

_‘Don’t you interrupt me!’_

_Gabriel had never seen Michael behave this way before. Especially not to him so he was at a loss of what he could say next._

_‘You are going down to Earth.’_

_‘I most certainly am not!’ he tried to draw himself to full height, hoping to intimidate the angel in front of him with his taller stature._

_He did nothing of the sort. She was glancing at him with her hands crossed and a hard to read expression on her face, eyebrow slightly arched._

_‘You are and you are saying please and thank you since I am doing you a massive favour over here, considering your huge screw-up.’_

_‘And what favour is that?’_

_‘I don’t know, maybe getting ten million angels off your back since you’d be safe down on Earth until the waters calm down. Cause, let me tell you, Gabriel, not everyone is as forgiving as I am.’_

_He opened his mouth to protest only to be interrupted by Michael yet again._

_‘No angel visits Earth without proper dispensation. It would be literally the only place that no other angel can cause you harm. And there’s lots of angels who want to at the time being.’_

_‘They do?’_

_‘What do you think?’_

_‘I…are you sure this is the best option?’_

_‘Positive,’ she uncrossed the hands from over her chest and stepped behind her desk and sitting down on the chair, elbows perched on the white sleek surface and fingers steepled together._

_The mess that the office had been not even two full days ago was of course in proper working order. Everything was pristine once more._

_‘Might even try doing a miracle or two here and there seeing as you’d be our only permanent acting in the field.’_

_‘But what about Raphael, and Joph and Ari and -’_

_‘I said permanent, Gabriel. Now go away. I have to try and remedy this awful mess somehow.’_

_Gabriel felt he had to protest some more, but Michael had never acted like this before. At least not to him and frankly it was a bit disconcerting._

_Earth it was, then._

***

_Even on his stay down here, he hadn’t been the picture of the perfect angel. As far from it as possible, actually._

_He was sent here to be Heaven’s emissary on Earth and what did he go and do? He started a secret affair with the emissary of the opposition. He wondered if they’d try killing him with Hellfire and found out he didn’t care._

_He’d never give up on Bee._

_And hearing about Michael’s betrayal hurt him. It hurt a lot._

_He should have expected as much, but was still taken by surprise._

_That Raphael of all angels was the one to tell him about it too had been a stinger._

_So why would the others want anything to do with him in the first place._

_He was blind, and stupid, and piss-poor at his job. And he had tried executing someone who had been basically doing what he himself was doing right now. Talk about hypocrisy. And thinking of himself as so much holier than thou._

_Lousy angel indeed._

***

‘Honey,’ Jophiel took his hand as soon as they sat down and was rubbing his knuckles in a soothing manner.

‘I’m glad to see you, Joph,’ he said and he was altogether honest about that. He had always liked Jophiel and she had always had a soft spot for him too. She acted like a… _now what was the human equivalent? A bigger sister, yes, that was it._ And she was the only one to manage to keep him and Raphael discorporating each other every time they laid eyes on each other.

‘I’m also happy to see you. I’m going to get us another cup of coffee and we can chat for a bit. What do you think?’

‘I’d like that.’

Other than Beelzebub who he didn’t see on a daily basis, even if he would have liked that very much, he spent the rest of his time alone. It would be good to have someone to talk to.

And Jophiel was a very good listener. He would say she was his best friend if angels had such a thing as best friends.

‘Espresso for you, yes? I’ll be back in a tick, you just wait here.’

He nodded at her and Jophiel went to the bar to order their drinks.

She returned with a tray with an espresso for him and a latte and chocolate muffin for her.

‘How has life on Earth treated you, this far?’

‘Fine. It is what it is.’

‘We got some of the others on our side as well. From really high up. I think we can really make a difference, you know,’ she declared nonchalantly as if she was talking about the weather and not plain open rebellion in Heaven.

‘That’s nice,’ he heard himself say.

Jophiel sipped at her latte and nibbled a bit at her muffin, watching him intently all the while.

‘You seem sad, Gabriel.’

‘I’m fine. Everything is fine.’

His eyes were still glazed over.

He tried to clear his throat and adjust his tie. Except he wasn’t wearing a tie because he had been wandering the streets of London for the past two days without giving a shit about changing clothes and was still wearing his turtleneck.

Jophiel caught on to that and took a hold of his hand again, stroking it gently.

‘Gabriel, what is it?’

‘I told you. It’s nothing.’

‘I am calling bullshit on that, honey. You’ve talked to me for as long as I care to remember. Shared everything. And I have never, _ever_ seen you cry.’

_Crying? Is that what he was doing. Shameful._

‘I’m only pissed about what that wanker Raph is trying to force my hand with,’ he tried to deflect. ‘I’m not that keen about being made a fool out of and being extorted, especially when -’

‘Oh, fuck!’ Jophiel exclaimed with a hand covering her mouth.

Her eyes were as wide as saucers.

‘What?’ he couldn’t help but snap at the other Archangel.

‘ _Oh no_ , you poor thing. You love them.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Gabriel. I’ve known you for a very long while. Put up with you for far longer than any of the others. I know you. And you never felt like this, not ever.’

‘Felt like what?’

‘You’re brimming with it. I can feel it dancing around you. The colours bend differently in the light.’

‘Now -’

‘Shut up. I’m the angel of fucking Beauty. I feel things,’ she said with a finger pressed to his lips while her other hand was cupping his cheek. ‘Oh, poor darling. I am so, so sorry.’

She drew her chair closer to his and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

 _Love…huh?_ Well, that certainly explained a lot of things.


	25. Back to the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a couple of our secondary characters try doing something different for a change.  
> That is to say they try to sleep and dream in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took its time, both in the writing it department and in the posting it one.  
> It figures all of my OC angels that I have grown very attached to because I tend to get easily attached to fictional characters of my own creation.  
> I hope it clears some things out, I really hope it does.

Seraphiel didn’t per se encourage Sloth in other angels but she wasn’t above it herself. _Well, as of late she sort of did just that_ , whispering in Jahoel and Kemuel’s ear wondrous things about the power of dreams. She’d tell that shite Cahethal about it later too. She still hadn’t forgiven him for the horrid coffee and she feared that she’d bite his head off instead of being a proper ray of sunshine in order to convince the fucker.

 _Two of them was enough, for today_ , she thought and congratulated herself on a job well done. Then she went back to her office and plopped her feet atop her desk and took a nap. _She’d earned it, hadn’t she?_

***

God’s throne seemed to be rather empty as of late _, she remarked with a frown and planned to ask the Almighty why exactly that was the next time she laid eyes on Her._

_For now, she spotted Asariel and Rahatiel had just returned from one of their star-making sessions and they were chatting animatedly recounting their later exploits to one another._

_She always liked tales about the stars._ And the stars themselves _, for that matter. She was almost bummed out that she had to stay down here and guard a chair._ An empty chair, at that.

_‘Oi, you two!’_

_‘Sera! Fuck, I missed you so so much!’ Rahatiel waved her over and pulled her into a tight hug._

_‘And I you, you beautiful bastard!’ she chuckled into the hug and then noticed the other Seraph staring at them and cleared her throat. ‘Asariel. Wonderful seeing you too. I heard you’re working on quite a big project. The Moon, was it?’_

_‘Yes and it’s all rather lovely, let me tell you.’_

_‘I’m sure it is, sweetcheeks. But I need to steal Rahatiel for just a ‘lil bit. He has some explaining to do,’ she said jokingly but the look she threw him secretively warned that the joking tone was just a cover._

_‘Well, see you both later, I guess,’ Asariel said on a rather dejected tone. It was clear he really wanted to boast about this whole “Moon” thing._

_She guided the other Seraph away with an arm around his shoulders and, after she made sure they were out of earshot, turned to face him and gripped both of his shoulders tightly._

_‘What is this I hear that you’ve started going around asking questions about angels falling in love?’_

_‘I…well…I…’_

_‘We don’t fall in love. We love everything around us in equal measure.’_

_‘But how is that fair?’_

_‘Geez, you sound just like fucking Lucifer. I gave him a hard bollocking earlier too, don’t mind me saying. That’s treasonous talk and it can get your arse into a lot of trouble.’_

_‘Why?’_

_‘Fuck’s sake! Listen, Rahatiel, you are very near and dear to me, you are, but please stop pursuing this. It will only get you hurt. It’s just how the rules work, darling.’_

_‘And who makes the rules? I really don’t see how -’_

_She placed a hand over his mouth and looked around them to see if anyone was eavesdropping on them._

_‘Well, not me, that’s for certain. I’m just trying to look out for my own. I dunno who makes them. God? The Metatron? The Archangels enforce them. And you know how they can get. Please, try to forget this nonsense and be safe.’_

_‘I’m not the only one who thinks this. Lucifer does too and Samkiel -’_

_‘Samkiel is bad news. Stay away from him. As for Lucifer, well, he’s not the fucking chief Seraph, I am.’_

_‘He was the first one of us.’_

_‘He was. Yet here we are. God works in mysterious ways, darling.’_

_She gave up her vice grip on his shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug that would have certainly broken a lot of ribs if they had the concept of ribs back then. She even stroked his long locks for some time._

_He was going to do something stupid, of that she was sure._ That stupid sod Lucifer as well _. As for Kokabiel…she really needed to have a serious talk with her later._

_She took a step back and cupped both his cheeks while giving him the most loving expression she was capable of and started stroking his cheeks with her thumbs while staring into wide green eyes._

_‘Darling, please promise m-’_

***

‘What in the name of the ever-loving-fuck is it this time!’ she barked at the door and nearly fell from her chair as she was unceremoniously woken up by a loud knock.

One of the Dominions stepped in stammering.

‘Um, lord Seraphiel…I…um…sorry to disturb you, your grace…I just have this,’ he pointed at the file in his hand and smiled uncertainly. ‘I was told by ser Raguel to bring you this from the Archives.’

‘What does that posh fucker want now?’

‘They said it was requested by your lordship. They said Pravuil told them to bring it here.’

_Ah, right. The list of angels._

‘Right, right. Leave it there,’ she pointed at the corner of her desk.

‘What’s your name, angel?’

‘Zachriel, your lordship.’

‘Sorry for snapping at you earlier. Just…you know… maybe knock the next time.’

He looked at her with a confused expression.

‘Yeah, whatever. Figure of speech,’ she shooed him away with a wave of her hand and opened the file.

˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜

Cherubs as a whole were rather obedient. And good natured. And they always aimed to please. So when the head of your Choir came down to you and told you it would be in everybody’s best interest if you all took a nap, _now there’s a good chap. Oh, and also do be a dear and don’t mention this to anyone, cheerio_ , there was nothing for it but shrug at each other and do as you were told. Or so Kerubiel and Jael believed, anyway.

Zaphiel was pacing his office anxiously and twirling his fingers. He had never tried this whole “sleep” thing and he was rather terrified. _What if he wasn’t any good at it? What if he couldn’t even fall asleep in the first place? Oh God, what if he fell asleep and wouldn’t know how to wake up? Oh, this was no use!_

He threw himself on the sofa in his office specifically placed there for guests and put his head in his hands. Well, it was intended for official meetings instead of those godawful uncomfortable chairs, since he always wanted to make whoever came around feel at home. So he preffered to see them as guests no matter in what official capacity they met. He even had a coffee table, a couple of armchairs and a tea kettle. Nobody seemed to take him up on his offer for tea. He had no idea why. _‘Cause it tastes like utter shite, Zaphie,’_ Seraphiel had once answered his querry.

He laid back on the couch, panic gripping him as he closed his eyes.

 _‘Relax. Deep breaths,’_ Seraphiel had said when coaching him how to go about it.

 _Seraphiel. Yes, he could think about Sera._ Thinking about her grounded him. She swore like a sailor, sure, even if he had no idea what sailors were or why they swore so much, but he had heard the expression a couple of times and saw it fitting. In didn’t matter that she swore so much anyway. She was a good angel underneath all that. Kind and loving. And with endless patience, judging by how she had put up with him over the centuries. And she had a nice smile and lovely hair and…and…

He dozed off.

***

_Angels, no matter what their rank was, were not discouraged from visiting the Garden and adding to it whatever they saw fit. Most of them would get that urge after a talk with Jophiel anyway, feeling divinely inspired._

_It was on such an occasion that Zaphiel was venturing among the trees in awe at what his fellow angels had contributed to this wondrous place that he laid eyes on Aziraphale sitting down under a tree that bore the most beautiful small white flowers apparently talking to something cupped in the palm of his hand, almost coo-ing at whatever it was._

_‘Aziraphale! Brother!’_

_‘Zaphiel! Such a surprise to see you here.’_

_‘It’s been a while, hasn’t it?’_

_‘So it has.’_

_Zaphiel stepped closer to see a small fluttery creature with wings of the deepest blues. It was beautiful._

_‘What is that?’_

_‘Oh, this? A butterfly. Theliel invented them. Aren’t they marvellous?’ Aziraphale asked as he took Zaphiel’s hand and deposited the so-called “butterfly” in his palm._

_It was indeed wonderful. He said as much._

_They sat in companionable silence for a while, enjoying the light breeze in the leaves of the trees and the sound of the birds and the little stream flowing a couple of feet away from them._

_‘I heard they stationed you at the Eastern Gate.’_

_‘They did. I have no idea what I am supposed to protect, though, if I’m being honest here. Or what I’m supposed to protect it with. I wasn’t given any weapon yet. I was just told to station here.’_

_‘As were Kerubiel, Ramiel and Suriel. All of them very good Cherubs. I take a lot of pride in having trained them.’_

_‘As you should, really. That’s no easy feat.’_

***

He woke up just as swiftly as he went to sleep. It was clear that this sleeping business wasn’t for him.

_But…but…was Aziraphale a…?_

_No…he couldn’t be. Could he?_

˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜

Raphael had no problem sleeping. He never had.

It was rather hard not to sleep after God only knows how many bottles of champagne and a tumble in the sheets with those two absolute delights. If he would have been human, he would have surely had a heart attack the previous night _. Sinful is what it was. The best kind of sinful_. He oftentimes wondered how he was not yet Fallen. But after each and every such night spent down on Earth he waited for a bit to see if any divine hand would split the Heavens open and smite him down where it stood.

It hadn’t happened so far, so he continued doing it.

***

 _‘Now listen here, you sod,’ he pointed a finger into a face that he not only_ _recognised_ _but deeply despised._

_Narrowed indigo eyes stared at him in return._

_‘No, you listen!’_

_‘Get fucked, errand-boy! And take your hands off me!’ he snarled and pushed at the other Archangel’s chest with all his might._

_That made Gabriel stumble backwards a few steps._

_‘I have no idea who do you think made you Lord and Master, but that’s obviously not the case. If anyone, that’s Michael and you are no more than a lap dog. Do a twirl for us and beg prettily, why don’t you?’_

_Gabriel was watching him back with a murderous expression._

_Quite a lot of the other Archangels had gathered around them because everyone enjoys a free show, angels included._

_He could spot Zadkeil and Haniel to one side and Yerachimiel, Phanuel and Jehudiel to another._

_He really didn’t want the added attention but he couldn’t even chance a look at the fucker without wanting to punch the daylight out of him._

_The fight had started from something minor._ Most of them did _. He didn’t even remember what it was about to begin with. He just knew he wanted to beat the bastard to a pulp._

_The other Archangels must have felt it too as Chamuel appeared from only God knew where in between the both of them with placating hands and urged both of them to bury the hatchet. The other Archangels seemed a bit put off by that, the free entertainment now at an end apparently._

_‘Brothers, why must we fight between ourselves? Shake hands and leave it behind you, I beg of you.’_

_‘Shake hands?’ Gabriel yelled while pointing a finger at Raphael? ‘With him? Over my dead body!’_

_‘That can be arranged.’_

_‘Now listen here you little shit!’_

_Gabriel was advancing towards him, still pointing his finger despite Chamuel being in the way._

_‘Oi there!’ they both heard a voice from the back of the crowd that now consisted in some Thrones, a couple of Dominions and most of the Virtues, already placing bets,_ those fucks.

_They both recognised the voice and groaned at the same time._

_Chamuel sighed in relief. If there was one angel to calm those two menaces down then it was Jophiel._

_She made her way through the throng of angels and approached the two crossing her arms in a posture that screamed mother of unruly children a bit more than it did Archangel._

_‘Sorry, Joph, I -’_

_‘Shut it!’ she warned and then threw Gabriel a withering look. He cast his eyes downwards._

_‘As for the lot of you,’ she addressed the others. ‘What are you still doing here? Come on, shoo. Bugger off,’ she waved her hands at the lot of them._

_They grumbled a bit but were gone._

_‘You too, Cham. I want to have a private word with these two shits.’_

_Chamuel hadn’t been more grateful for anything in his life. He didn’t react very well to conflict._

_‘Now that it’s just the three of us, can you tell me exactly what all of this is all about?’_

_‘Well, He said that -’_

_‘Do you really need to cause a scene like that?’ she interrupted him almost instantly, apparently the need for an explanation being more rhetorical rather than anything else. ‘There’s talk of rebellion and people picking sides and then you two morons start fighting right here in the open giving everyone ideas. Can you even begin to understand how extraordinarily stupid this is?’_

_‘Now look here, Joph -’_

_‘Don’t you Joph me, Gabriel! You are equally to blame! I know Michael gave you a hard time about the Kokabiel business but that’s no reason to take it out on Raph and play silly buggers!’_

_‘Michael did what?’ Raphael stared at Gabriel some more and saw that under the whole powerhouse exterior there was serious hurt there. He could feel it_. He was the angel of healing, after all _. Irreparable damage had been made. And to think he always thought those two were in it together. His eyes were even slightly red at the rims._ Goddamned fucker _. Now he had to go and feel sorry for him._

_‘Yeah, Raph. Not everything revolves around you, in spite of you believing that each minute of the day. Michael has been a horrible bitch to Gabriel just because he loves another angel.’_

_‘He…_ what _?’_

_‘You heard me. Now wipe that stupid expression off your face and say sorry or you’ll regret the day God chose to create your stupid arse!’_

_Jophiel was stroking Gabriel’s long locks and whispering words of encouragement._

_‘I’m sorry, you bastard. I didn’t know. I just assumed you were being your usual shit self.’_

_‘That’s not going to win the “apology of the year” competition, I’ll tell you that. But okay. I really don’t know what’s the matter with you two.’_

_He opened his mouth to answer her but he felt like the ground was pulled from under his feet and he was stumbling and then falling. And falling._

***

He shot up from the bed managing to frighten his two companions from the previous evening.

One of them had obviously tried to wake him up but was now sitting a foot away from him with wide terrified eyes and the hand that had just shook his shoulder clasped firmly to her chest.

_Fucking shit fuck bollocks and all of the other things! Fuck!_

That complete shit loved someone back then. _Kokabiel,_ Jophiel had said. He knew of no angel with that name which could only mean… _oh shit!_

 _Why the Hell did he have to feel sorry for the fucker_?

He groaned and threw himself back on the many throw-pillows, arm draped dramatically over his face. The mood for the day was ruined now.

˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜

Jophiel had tried sleeping lots of times during the last centuries spent on Earth. Dreams provided her with the most interesting and vivid visions that she could impart on the humans. Much more than her own limited imagination could.

Even if she was the Angel of Beauty and was in charge of everything creation-wise, she still needed divine intervention every now and again and trusted that most of her dreams were pure celestial intervention.

She had just come “home” from a Christie’s auction that seemed to end badly. That is to say some rich Russian guy bought some paintings that he would never take any pleasure in. It was just for status and the like. She hated whenever that happened. But they had particularly said that all of the angels deployed on Earth should keep their miracle count to the bare minimum for the time being so she just stared with narrowed eyes and drank all of the red wine offered to her at that auction.

So now she was completely hammered.

She had no idea how she even reached her flat, never mind open the door. It had taken her more than twenty attempts.

She tried ridding herself of her Lou Boutins only to face plant on the carpet.

_Oh, that was going to sting tomorrow._

_Nevermind. The carpet was plush enough. And the bed was miles away_ , she thought as she started stroking the silky Persian carpet with a satisfied smile and swiftly fell asleep, even snoring a little bit and drooling on the antique 10 000 pounds carpet.

***

_Heaven was a lot different back then. Still pearly white, obviously. Still incandescent. But somehow simpler. Happier. She could feel it with every fibre of her being. She let out a sigh and her shoulders sagged as she let relief wash over her. She didn’t even know for how long she had been so tense but was basking quite freely in the feeling of relief when she heard it. Well, them._

_She could barely make the voices out at first, but as she drew nearer she recognised them instantly._

_Michael and Gabriel._

_‘You are not to see her anymore, if you know what’s best for both of you,’ Michael said and pressed her index finger into Gabriel’s chest._

_‘I really don’t understand what the big deal is,’ Gabriel replied._

_‘You don’t, don’t you? Well I guess it’s not up for you to judge the word of the Almighty. I would ease off on all of this getting to know one another intimately if you knew what was good for you. And her, obviously.’_

_‘Michael, I…’_

_‘Shut it and just listen to someone else for once. I know you like to hear yourself talk. But just this once, make an effort and listen to someone else.’_

_‘But I love her.’_

_‘As you should. You’re an angel. You should love everything. From_ afar. _’_

_She smiled a wicked smile and left him all on his own. Jophiel made her way towards him but the dream cut off mid-walk._

***

She woke up with a groan. Still on the carpet. Still unbelievably drunk. Still hating on Michael, not that that was any news.

_Well then, that was a thing that happened._

She really needed to tell the others about this.

˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜

Pravuil had a busy day ahead of her but she was not the only angel to man the Archives so she could pass some of the responsibilities onto the others as well. _What was the point in basically all of Heaven owing her favours if she didn’t get the most out of that?_

So she put Harahel and Radueriel on General Public Interactions for the day and went into the storage room, prepared to take her first ever nap.

She perched herself up on one of the piles of unsorted files and closed her eyes, hoping that this whole sleeping business will just come to her.

Michael would probably bite her head off about the complete disarray in those files but that was why this was the backroom and no one but her and Radueriel had access to it. _Her Archives. Her Files_. Not to mention that most of the stuff that resided back here were the reports that none of them had ever bothered to file properly since they were all mindless derivative drivel.

She spent a lot of time laying down on her back with her eyes closed but nothing much happened. _Wasn’t this how sleep worked?_

What had Jophiel said? Reading helped. _Okay_. There were plenty of files around. Really boring stuff helped even more. _Ah, she had just the thing_ , she thought as she fished one of Sandalphon’s reports and started perusing it. She was down like a log by the third paragraph.

***

_‘Hello Vretiel,’ she called out cheerfully and was awarded a warm smile in response. It felt like Vretiel had more teeth than actually possible but she dismissed that as a trick of the light._

_Vretiel had always been of immense help to her and the most organised angel to ever work the Archives._

_They were currently perched atop a ladder and sorting through all of the new animal files. There were quite a lot of them and Pravuil felt that without Vretiel she would be utterly lost._

_They looked at the other angels working the Archives and then waved Pravuil over._

_‘Do you think you can let them go early today? It’s just something that I planned to tell you about and I’d rather we were on our own. No snooping around and all of that,’ they whispered, bending over so that they were at the same level as Pravuil, already climbing down the ladder._

_‘Of course. If you think it necessary. I always trusted your judgement.’_

_Pravuil gathered some more files laid inelegantly on one of the long tables in her arms and made her way down the corridors in-between the shelves, making a point to talk to any and all of the angels serving in the Archives and telling them that this was a short…what was it called again?_ Ah, Friday _. Such interesting concepts, she had no idea who came up with them._

_They were more than happy to put down all the files they were currently working on and scram as fast as possible before their boss came back to her senses and called them back to work._

_It didn’t take long for the whole Archive Room, be it Infinite and Eternal, to be almost empty safe for two angels that huddled together and spoke in whispers for no apparent reason._

_‘Listen, I think I stumbled over something rather intriguing,’ Vretiel said, heading towards one of the stashes of boxes in the corner and calling Pravuil over with a “come hither” gesture._

_They lifted one of the boxes that had a piece of parchment taped to it that read:_ “to be sorted out” _and then in slightly larger letters:_ “BY VRETIEL!!!!!”.

_They placed the box on one of the tables and started pulling out files. Some were rather thin but some looked like a really thorough investigation had been done on those particular angels. For these all were personnel files. That Pravuil had no idea of actually signing up for. Or requesting at all._

_Vretiel saw her worried expression and nodded._

_‘Yeah, that was my reaction as well. Who requested these in the first place? What’s the point? And the funny thing is, it took me a while to find a common denominator. I first thought they’re bound to be about a certain choir of angels in particular. But no. There’s Seraphs and Cherubs. Dominions and Virtues. Powers. Thrones. Archangels. You name it. Even common angels.’_

_‘So they are just random personnel files? Who benefits from that? We already have the personnel database and I dare say we did a stellar job on that.’_

_‘We did, didn’t we?’ Vretiel smiled at her some more._

_The trick of the light seemed to be persisting._

_‘What ties these angels together?’ Pravuil asked as she opened seven of them at random._

_They didn’t have anything in common. Different choirs. Different departments. Most of them didn’t even know each other. Had never met._ So what was up with that?

_‘That’s not even the main question out of this whole debacle,’ Vretiel said and their smile faded only to be replaced by a frown. ‘The question you need to ask yourself is how come last week there were four boxes of these and now it’s just the one?’_

_‘I….no! There’s no way someone’s stealing from the Archives! Are they?’_

_‘I don’t know. And I hate not knowing. I’ve always been a curious angel, me. I think I’m going to take this up with a Higher Authority. I think we all deserve answers. It’s only proper, after all.’_

_‘Yes, I do believe it is. You can’t put me in charge of the Archives and then have people stealing from those Archives. It’s preposterous,’ Pravuil declared, all ruffled feathers._

_‘The thing that ties all of them together is angels asking questions,’ Vretiel said, one of their hands placed soothingly on Pravuil’s arm._

_‘Questions? About what?’_

_‘All matter of things. How come God hasn’t shown Her face for a while? What’s Her plan? What’s up with those humans? But most of them are about love.’_

_‘Love? We are made out of it, are we not?’ Pravuil raised her eyes to stare into the ones of the Archangel and was met by a concerned expression and eyes such light a blue they were almost white._

_‘Not that kind of love. Listen,’ Vretiel said as they clasped her other arm as well, ‘I don’t have much time and I need you to remember this.’_

_‘Vretiel, what is the meaning of -’_

_‘Remember this. Remember there were files. Lots of them. And now there aren’t. Can you do that? Can you remember that when you wake up?’_

_‘When I…?’_

_‘Wake up. You need to wake up now.’_

***

Pravuil managed to dislodge 3 boxes of files that were now spread all over the floor of the storage room.

_Well, that was something._

She knew Vretiel. She knew them, of that she was sure. She knew them personally and they had been a friend. She felt a tight knot in her chest as she went to check the personnel files.

 _Goddamnit_ _! Where was it? Ah, there it is. Varhmiel, Vequaniel, Verchiel…Xathanael…_

_Fuck!_

This was not just bad. Bad was leaving a coffee cup ring on one of the pages. It wasn’t even worse. Worse was forgetting to take all the files that Michael had requested up to her office. This was actually the worst. _The absolute fucking worst._

 _She really needed to tell the others about this,_ she pondered as she clasped her hands to her chest and couldn’t help but feel an immeasurable loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In order of appearance:  
> Jahoel – one of the angels of the presence  
> Kemuel – archon angel  
> Cahethal - angel in charge of agriculture  
> Asariel – angel who rules the moon  
> Rahatiel – angel prince of the constellations  
> Samkiel – angel of destruction and purifier of souls  
> Kokabiel – prince angel of the stars  
> Raguel – angel who watches over the behaviour of angels  
> Zachriel – angel who governs memories  
> Theliel – angel prince of love  
> Kerubiel – prince angel of the cherubim  
> Ramiel – angel who oversees visions and souls during the day of judgement  
> Suriel – angel of healing  
> Zadkeil – archangel who stands in the presence of God  
> Haniel – archangel who guards the tree of life  
> Phanuel – archangel who is an interpreter of revelations  
> Jehudiel – archangel who rules the movements of the celestial spheres  
> Chamuel – archangel of Peace  
> Harahel – angel who oversees libraries  
> Radueriel – angel who oversees archives  
> Vretiel – swift in wisdom archangel responsible for recording God’s deeds
> 
> As always, tons of thanks to my wonderful beta [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose)! If you like OC angels in general you would surely greatly enjoy her latest work. I cannot recommend it enough!
> 
> Comments and Kudos are what drive this baby and therefore greatly appreciated :)


	26. Misfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Crowley pulls a Crowley on himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I just go completely feral and changed the pronouns in an already half-written fic while not getting any sleep in the last day and a half? Yes, yes I did. Did I need to do that? Probably not. Did I go and do it anyway? Most definitely.

Crowley had spent most of the day with Warlock at the London Zoo.

Well, causing some minor inconveniences down on the Tube making sure none of the ticket machines worked, to the kid’s obvious glee. They sat for a while and admired the oncoming chaos watching people get more and more frustrated by the minute as they realised none of them were working.

The tourists were furious, and decided to buy Oyster cards instead. Those didn’t work either.

The normal people who had to go to work or about their business in general tried charging them up, both at the ticket machines and online. Nothing worked. Not even the credit cards or mobile pay.

The automatic gates leading to the station were firmly shut, no matter what people attempted.

At some point Warlock suggested extending this to the rail system as well, because, why not?

 _They had already chosen King’s Cross as the base of operations, so it stood to reason_ , he pointed out, munching on a bag of salt and vinegar crisps and grinning devilishly at Crowley.

They had to make sure they had as many machines as possible on display so the general frustration could grow to massive proportions while they were there to witness it. And as many gates. The large number of people was a given at this point.

The platforms in both King’s Cross and St Pancras were in an uproar, much to the rising panic of the guards that were vastly overpowered by a mass of angry commuters.

Warlock chuckled for a bit before realising something.

‘Can’t they just walk to the next station and charge their cards there? They’re close enough. The stations, I mean.’

‘Nah, I fried the whole thing on a twenty-mile radius. The online bit as well. Now, they have to,’ Crowley shuddered a bit, ‘take the bus.’

Taking the bus was a slow and frankly not very pleasant experience all around.

He himself preferred avoiding buses in general as a means of public transport if he actually had any destination in mind. He just used them as an impromptu meeting place for him and Aziraphale since it would take ages to get between point A and point B so they had ample time to talk without getting too far from their initial spot.

But, at any other times…yeah, that was a definite no.

Some of them would probably have to get Ubers at twice the rate or even… _dare he hope…fry the Uber network as well?_ And the really desperate ones would have to get black cabs and then be forced to re-evaluate their food budget for the oncoming week.

He smiled widely.

Warlock seemed pleased by how the whole plan unfolded and stayed put for the next half hour pointing at this or that particularly shouty person who made the life of the people around them a living Hell for the time being. But, all good (well, bad) things must come to an end and they did have a Zoo to visit after all, so they did leave eventually, leaving the chaos unfold, unaware of the full extent of it.

He had to admit that the boy was far more interested in the animals now that Crowley was doing the chaperoning than he had been when his mother had tried teaching him about dinosaurs.

This was due partly to Crowley’s little anecdotes but mainly to the reactions the animals actually had to him. Therefore the petting zoo was definitely out.

And they spent a lot of time in the snake enclosure. Not so much time in the bird one for fear of giving all the birds a heart attack.

There had been pizza and chips to be had – by Warlock. And fizzy drinks that probably gave everyone drinking them a sugar high to last for a week by both of them.

Warlock asked if they could go to the amusement park again but he was pushing his luck and he knew it.

Plus, Crowley had to drop him off at the manor soon if he planned to arrive at the pub in time for his date with the angel.

So, Warlock was dropped off with a promise of taking a day trip with the two of them to Tadfield the next weekend – a place he had heard so much about but had never seen with his own eyes.

If what Crowley told him was true then he’d experience proper snow for the first time. Whatever passed for snow in London only lasted for a tiny bit before it turned into sludge and it got dirty almost instantly.

Maybe he’d even get to build a snowman, that was a thing he had always wanted to do.

That would be awesome.

The kid was safely passed over to one of the security guards – _what was his mother doing that required so much of her time, anyway? She was a stay at home mum. All she had to do was stay pretty and smile politely in the photo ops. And take care of Warlock which apparently she never did._

Crowley wanted to have a word or two with her and maybe instil some fear of Crowley into her while he was at it.

But that was for later, for now he had an angel to get to.

 _And why was it so crowded all of a sudden?_ He wanted to make a left since it was obviously jam-packed straight ahead.

Another car blocked his path and then he saw that the street he was planning to make his escape on was filled to the brim with cars as well.

He looked to his right and it wasn’t any better.

_Perfect. Fucking gridlock. What on earth had he done to deserve this?_

***

Crowley entered the bookshop and slammed the door behind him.

‘Oh, darling, do be careful,’ Aziraphale said noncommittally as he was nose deep in a book.

A long tirade of swearwords followed, but they were not directed at the angel. They were apparently directed at traffic.

Aziraphale reached the end of a page, sighed and put the book down. _What was the problem this time?_

Crowley made his way to the kitchen and came back with a bottle of whiskey and two cups. _Cups? Really? What were they, savages?_

‘Sorry to stand you up, angel. I got stuck for two hours in bloody Camden.’

‘What happened?’

‘Bloody traffic, that’s what’s happened.’

‘Did you do something?’

‘What can you possibly mean by that?’

‘Traffic doesn’t just happen like that. It’s a Saturday. There is no need for the streets to be full. So, think about it for a moment. Did you actually do something to cause such a thing.’

‘Nah, angel. I just took Warlock to the bloody Zoo.’

He frowned for a bit and seemed to reach a conclusion.

‘I might have done just some minor stuff down on the tube.’

‘And you don’t think this was at all related?’

‘Oh, shut it.’

Aziraphale threw him a knowing look.

Crowley poured a healthy amount of whisky in both cups and handed one to Aziraphale.

‘Oh, I probably shouldn’t,’ he said as he eyed the cup, miracleing it into a crystal glass. ‘Drank almost a whole bottle already.’

‘Didn’t take you for someone who drinks a bottle of whisky on their own. But I guess you learn a lot of things by living with someone.’

‘Well, about that...’

‘Yeah?’

‘I wasn’t actually alone,’ Aziraphale inspected his perfectly manicured fingers as if they offended him somehow.

‘Mhm,’ Crowley intoned as he drank from his cup. Aziraphale miracled that to a crystal glass as well.

‘I sort of drank it with…’

‘Come on, out with it,’ Crowley urged him on as a smile threatened to spill _. Oh this was going to be good._ Whoever it was it made the angel nervous to hear the demon’s reaction and that could only mean one thing. Plenty of ammunition for further teasing. _Nice!_

What came out of the angel’s lips next was however the last name he would have expected to hear.

‘Lord Beelzebub if you’d believe that.’

‘You _wha_ t?’

‘I thought I was altogether clear.’

‘You shared a bottle of whisky with one of the Princes of Hell?’

‘No, no. I had my own bottle and they had theirs.’

‘Does that make it better somehow?’

‘Well, I don’t know!’ Aziraphale wailed as he threw his arms up in a frustrated way.

‘I was not shocked by you drinking a bottle by yourself. Have seen you do it more than a hundred times. More about your choice of companions.’

‘Well, you weren’t there.’

Aziraphale pouted for a bit.

‘So what? You defaulted to the next demon you saw? Is that a thing for you? Should I be concerned?’

‘Stop being difficult. Of course it isn’t. They were there at that awful pub you proposed we meet at. And they were being very sad.’

‘So what? Fuck them.’

‘Crowley!’

‘They tried to kill me, angel. Well, you. Semantics. So the fuck them sentiment is rather valid, all in all.’

Aziraphale looked on the verge of admonishing him yet again. Instead, a small smile threatened to spill.

Crowley knew that smile. It was the “Aziraphale is going to be a complete and utter bastard” smile. He loved it very, _very_ much.

So he drew closer as if he was let in on a state secret and placed his elbows on his knees, eyebrow raised.

‘Oooh, I think you’ll rather like this.’

‘Mmm?’

Aziraphale tried fighting the smile some more but failed miserably. So he went for a knowing little wiggle instead.

‘Gabriel “fucks” them apparently.’

Crowley remained frozen in place, glass halfway to his mouth. He was very grateful not to have his mouth full of whisky because otherwise said whisky would have been sprayed all over Aziraphale and his precious books. And he would have never heard the end of that.

This continued for a full five minutes.

‘Could you…um…repeat the last bit.’

‘They fuck, Crowley.’

Crowley ignored the little tingle he got from hearing Aziraphale saying ‘fuck’ twice in a row. _No no. This was far more interesting._ He’ll revisit the ‘fuck’ being uttered later.

‘That’s…certainly… _something_?’

‘And I do believe Beelzebub loves him. I think he loves them too but I can’t test that theory if I’m not near him and I really don’t want to see him ever again. So I’m just going to trust my gut.’

‘I don’t want to object to your very trustworthy gut but demons don’t love.’

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow.

‘Yeah well, other demons. You know what I mean,’ Crowley dismissed the matter.

‘But, in this case, I do believe they do.’

‘Come on, angel. Beelz never had a loving bone in their body. You’ve seen them in Hell. They dismiss everything like they can’t be bothered. If there is one word that might describe them it is utterly uncaring.’

Aziraphale didn’t seem convinced.

‘I think they just do it for sport. Great stress reliever, that.’

‘Well, I think you’re wrong.’

‘Let’s agree to disagree. And speaking of fucking…’ Crowley threw him a smile that all but screamed temptation.

‘Hopeless romantic, aren’t you?’ Aziraphale rolled his eyes but he got up from his armchair and headed upstairs pausing when he reached the staircase.

‘Well, are you coming or not?’

Crowley downed his whisky and got up so quickly he nearly tripped on his own feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are going to get significantly more random from here on out. The story just took its own reins and started writing itself, you know how it is.
> 
> As ever, thank you, [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose)! Hugs and kisses!


	27. Don't lose your head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bee and Gabe are being excellent at feelings, as it is the norm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as ever to my brilliant beta, [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose), this fic couldn't have happened without you! :)

‘We should have a plan,’ Beelzebub said as they pulled their shirt over their head without bothering with the buttons.

Ever since the talk he had had with Jophiel Gabriel looked at them with different eyes.

‘In case this whole thing blows up. We should be ready.’

‘I’ll meet with Raphael and Joph next week. They said they found more allies Upstairs.’

‘How nice of them,’ Beelzebub intoned dead-pan as they pulled up their trousers with more force than necessary.

‘It is. Look, Joph is trying her best,’ Gabriel tried explaining as he was still sprawled on the bed, one hand resting behind his head on the pillow while the other one was gesturing at nothing in particular.

‘Her best, eh? Did she try her best when she ambushed you with those photos too?’

‘You don’t understand, Joph’s not like that. She’s the angel of Beauty, for fuck’s sake.’

Beelzebub was standing, back turned to the archangel, and that was just as well as he couldn’t see their eyes going completely red and them biting their lip so hard that they drew blood.

‘Well then, have your friend Joph help you then.’

They snapped their fingers to make sure the obvious cut on their lip disappeared completely, cleared their throat and turned around.

‘And for Satan’s sake, put some clothes on,’ they threw a rumpled pair of suit trousers at him.

He looked down and indeed he was still very much naked.

‘I need you to leave. Now.’

Gabriel looked at them with a shocked expression and if they didn’t know any better it looked just a little bit hurt.

‘I thought we could…I don’t know…spend a little more time…’ he said as he looked at the clock on the nightstand. ‘It’s not even four. Dawn is ages away.’

‘You thought wrong. Now, up you go. Chop chop! I need to go out for some fresh air.’

He got up and picked his clothes up halfheartedly while throwing them a miserable look.

It had been like this ever since the “it’s strictly sex” business.

The more he tried to stay for longer or even cuddle, the swifter he was pushed out the door.

He knew what this was now, for him, at least. He wanted it to be that but he would never try coercing them into something they did not want.

‘I could come with, you know? If you wanted to go for a walk,’ he offered as he pulled his turtleneck over his head and shoulders.

‘Are you demented right now?’

‘I…what do you mean?’

‘The whole of Heaven and Hell are on our heels and you want to go for an early morning walk? Do you even hear yourself? I mean, I know I’m a good fuck, but I didn’t expect I was that good to fry your last two brain cells altogether.’

‘Um…yeah…you’re probably right. I should get going.’

‘You should. And you should use the backdoor.’

‘And get spotted by that hag in apartment 10? I think not. Last time she poured scalding water on me and instructed me about the sins of the flesh. Completely ruined my suit, too.’

Beelzebub couldn’t help but grin at this.

They lit an L&B and looked at the Archangel with a sly smile.

‘Well well, looks like even high and mighty archangels get “the Talk” when it comes to such matters.’

He was completely dressed by now and pouting slightly.

‘Fine. Backdoor it is. I will call you after I talk to Joph.’

Their smile faded completely and was replaced by a snarl instead.

‘I can’t wait. Do send all of those feathery shits my regards. Especially your good friend, Joph.’

Gabriel’s brows furrowed at that.

They seemed distressed by something but he couldn’t place his finger on what it was.

‘Um…yeah…I will? I guess?’

He stepped closer and leaned in for a kiss only for Beelzebub to turn their back away from him completely and take a long drag of their cigarette.

‘Don’t forget to slam the door on your way out. You know it tends to stick.’

His hand lingered just above their shoulder for what felt like eternity before he took it back, cleared his throat and was out the door quicker than he ever thought possible.

Beelzebub took another long drag, exhaled and then sighed into the now empty room.

They did really need to go and roam the streets in order to clear their head.

This was really getting out of hand.

***

Gabriel was in a similar position as he stalked the streets of Whitechapel aimlessly.

People had tried pick pocketing him only twice this morning so he guessed things were turning for the better and the neighbourhood was coming along nicely now that he was spending more and more time in it. Angelic influence and all of that.

Of course he only needed to stare really hard at the assailants and they ran away instantly from the severity of his stare alone. But he wasn’t even paying attention at this particular time.

He was at war with himself.

On the one hand it was good that Beelzebub kept their meetings short and business-like. It was far easier to respond when questioned by either side.

_He was trying to reform a demon, they were trying to corrupt an angel. Proper behaviour, that._

On the other hand, thanks to Jophiel, he now knew that he had feelings for said demon and wanted to act on them.

He would never do that, of course, because that would cause them displeasure and he never wanted that.

But it would have been nice to be able to say it out loud and never fear the consequences.

They had made it abundantly clear, had they not? Spelled it out for him so there was no room for misunderstandings.

Ever since that blasted day all of their encounters have been very short and very to the point.

_You’re satisfied, I’m satisfied now pack off and go home._

He couldn’t excuse his lingering any more. There was no lingering to talk about to begin with.

They got out of bed instantly and dressed themself again in a manner of mere seconds before telling him he had to leave.

There were no more dinner dates. No more pubs.

He couldn’t say he missed the gross matter all that much but he did miss the pleased look on their face whenever they saw him eating and he especially missed the frankly pornographic sounds they made while stuffing their face full of greasy looking food stuff.

_What did he do that drew such a wedge between them?_

_He had to have done something?_

Maybe they figured it out as well and angelic love was not something that demons coped well with.

Maybe he should just keep it bottled up and try and settle for what they had now. Surely that was enough.

He ambled aimlessly some more and then spotted a coffee cart still open at this ungodly hour and made a beeline towards it.

Coffee was not something he wanted or even needed but the other option was alcohol and of the strong variety, so coffee had to do for now. Even as an angel he understood that 5am was not the ideal time to start binge drinking.

That awful tasting drink that Beelzebub was always going on about was on his mind, though, and he would make sure he would stack all of his cabinets with it whenever the shops opened.

That was hours away still.

No matter. He liked walking about.

***

Beelzebub smoked another cigarette. And then another.

Not before long the whole pack was finished.

_Or, was it long?_

They didn’t even know anymore.

They scoured the apartment, well, the more apt description was room, for more cigarettes and seemed to come up short.

They nearly tore everything in their small kitchenette apart but still, there were no cigarettes.

 _Fuck this_ , they thought as they nearly ripped the front door out of its hinges.

They did need to go on that walk after all.

_Bollocks to that._

_I love that bastard!_

_Why is everything so hard? Who ever heard of demons loving someone else?_

According to that other bastard angel, Aziraphale, Crowley loved him as well. But Crowley was a shit demon and a traitor and they should never try to compare themself to him.

But the angel also loved him back, so that was something…

And he said angels could sense love. That was something too. Maybe he just had the good grace of not saying anything so that he wouldn’t embarrass them. Not that Gabriel had a lot of good grace in general.

But they saw his lousy attempts at staying over for cuddles for what they were. Him taking pity on them. Him granting them the benefit of his presence for a little while longer.

He surely knew how they felt and even if he didn’t feel the same he was an angel after all. His default settings were supposed to be to soothe and comfort. And who better to comfort than your natural born enemy that had fallen head over heels for you?

_Godfuckingdammit!_

They punched a wall on their way to the petrol station so hard that the brick crumbled.

This earned them a weird look from a homeless man sleeping on the sidewalk but they couldn’t be bothered.

The petrol station was only a couple of miles away from their flat and yet they fought the urge to pat their pockets in search for a cigarette.

_Focus! That’s precisely the reason you are going there in the first place._

The cold December air was particularly biting this early morning. Especially as they had left their place sans any overcoat.

Just a thin, nondescript greyish shirt and one of those stupid coat jackets they had bought forever ago to woo the angel.

Brilliant plan that had been, they scowled at themself.

_What a lousy excuse for a demon, they were. Not even able to carry out a simple temptation. Pathetic._

They spotted the petrol station just as they started mentally berating themself.

There’d be plenty of that later. For now, they had to focus on the task at hand.

They entered the shop not minding the flashing neon that didn’t function properly. They had plenty of those Downstairs. They were used to them. It almost felt natural.

‘I’ll have a pack of L&B’s. Wait, make that a cartridge.’

They knew what they were on about.

They took out a wad of cash that they threw down on the counter unceremoniously.

The clerk stared at them for a bit and then quickly complied.

‘Oh and throw in a bottle of the strongest thing you have.’

‘It’s vodka, miss. But I’m afraid it ain’t terribly good.’

They fought the urge to snap at him for calling them “miss” but that was the last thing on their mind at the moment.

‘Good. Cheapest stuff you’ve got.’

‘Are you sure, miss? This more than covers up for anything we have.’

‘Positive. Come on, chop chop.’

‘Sure thing miss. I’m going to add a bag as well. You don’t want them coppers to see you walking around with that at this hour.’

Beelzebub waved their hand as if they couldn’t be bothered.

They took the bag and turned on their heels as the clerk called after them.

‘Miss, wait. I have to give you back your change.’

‘Nah, keep it, kid. You could put it in the charity tin if you want. Or you could keep it for yourself. No one ever has to know,’ they grinned widely at him and tapped the side of their nose before they left the shop.

A demon shouldn’t encourage anyone to give money to charity, but the hungry look on the kid’s face warned that that would not be the actual outcome of their stack of 20 pounds bills.

And even if they were feeling a little low at the moment, that didn’t mean they stopped being a demon altogether. They never could resist a proper temptation when it stared them in the face.

They could even excuse it as a good intention in front of the baffled teen.

And everyone knew that the road to Hell was paved with good intentions.

Well, not Beelzebub since they happened to know for a fact that it was actually paved with telemarketers.

They lit a cigarette as soon as they were out of the shop proper but still inside the petrol station and then they pondered where to go for a little bit.

The nearest park wasn’t all that far and it was not like they had a very busy schedule at the moment.

They didn’t want to return to the flat yet. Not anytime soon at least.

The place still smelled like Gabriel and sex and, even despite their attempts to cover that up with the stinkiest cigarettes known to man, they knew the smell would linger on for hours.

_So nearest park it was instead._

They sat down on one of the benches and opened the bottle of vodka.

 _Oh, this was really vile stuff_ , they realised as they took a healthy swig. _Just as well._

They sighed deeply and downed half the bottle.

_So this was just going to be one of those days._


	28. Back Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get introduced to a new demon. But they're one of the good guys - well, not completely bad guys, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not all demons are complete bad guys just like not all angels are all goody-two-shoes.

Dagon was chewing on a piece of rock candy. Was it rock? Or had it just stayed long enough glued to the inside of her desk drawer that it became the consistency of rock. They had had to scrape it off it with one of their shivs. It didn’t matter, what mattered was that maybe they were not best suited for such a type of candy, considering the teeth and everything. They had bit twice into it and it was already crushed into needle sharp bits that stabbed at their gums.

_Eh, they’d had worse._

‘Eric!’ they bellowed from where they were trying to nap on a makeshift nest-like structure comprised out of all the chairs in the Archives.

This forced everyone else to either sit down on the floor - which was not ideal - or squat on top of the piles of files which, in theory, was also not ideal, but Dagon couldn’t bring themself to care.

A dozen Erics looked up from what they were doing.

‘Yeah, boss, which one of us, exactly?’

‘For the last time…. You know what, forget it. One of you. Whichever would do. Bring me a coffee.’

One of the Erics snapped to attention and headed towards the kitchenette.

‘How do you usually serve it?’

‘Surprise me. Or, better yet, let that hellish machine do the surprising.’

‘Aye aye, boss.’

Dagon groaned.

There was some commotion by the door.

Dagon didn’t bother to get up.

‘Oh, heya, Bernie’ a couple of Erics said in unison.

There was loud thump and a series of swearwords as one of the Erics banged his head on something and came out from under a table looking at the newcomer bashfully and chanceing a small wave.

Dagon did get up at that.

‘What’s this?’ they asked and pointed at the demon sitting languidly in the door frame with her hands crossed over her chest and chewing gum rather loudly. Every so often she would pop a pink bubble.

She was scowling at some of the Erics, most probably because of the blatant disrespect they showed her by calling her ‘Bernie’. Or maybe it was just her general demeanour. That was perfectly possible.

‘Hey, Dagon,’ the newcomer said in a bored tone of voice.

‘Bernael,’ Dagon intoned back and eyed the Erics some more.

‘Eric here said that I can pop in if I wanted to,’ she pointed at basically every Eric present in the room.

‘Did he now?’ Dagon snarled. ‘And why exactly is that?’

‘Dunno, was bored today, thought I’d pop in,’ the new demon inspected the chipped off nail polish on her fingers and shrugged.

‘I wasn’t talking to you, Bernael.’

‘Um, you did say you needed the most help you could get,’ one of the clearly suicidal Erics stepped forward and he was fried in a column of Hellfire mere moments later. Dagon had had just enough of this whole farce. Not to mention that their fingers itched for some proper demon burning since they had been abstaining lately.

There was a general groan.

‘Come on, boss! You said you won’t be doing that anymore, didn’t you?’

‘I also said that this is something that should remain in between the lot of us, not a family weekend barbecue where we invite the neighbours in.’

‘Bernie’s alright.’

‘Is she?’

‘Not really,’ Bernael felt the need to quip in as she stroked the large raven sitting on her shoulder.

Dagon threw her another murderous look. And then shot the raven one for good measure.

The raven didn’t seem very impressed.

They had no idea why Bernael always walked around with her familiar perched on her shoulder rather then her head and why she acted towards it more like it was a pet but then again they hadn’t had that many interactions up close until now. Dagon just knew she was considered to be a general pest and left it at that.

‘Why _are_ you here to begin with?’

‘Told ya, I’m bored. This seemed more fun.’

‘Fun? Really?’

‘Well yeah, fucking up with the DC is always fun.’

‘Fucking up with…’ Dagon drew in a deep breath. ‘ERIC!’

All of them stood to attention.

‘Call the other stupid fucks as well while you’re at it.’

There was a flurry of tablets and really wonky looking flip phones all around and soon enough the whole Archives were swarming with an army of Erics.

Dagon waited patiently for the hubbub to die down and then took a look at the army of disposable demons in front of them.

‘Okay, so, first of all… are you all being this dense on purpose? Or is it a Creation flaw? Did you hit your head extra hard when you hit the ground? Were the pits of sulphur not agreeing with you lot?’

‘Um,’ one of them tried but was quickly elbowed by another one and given a vigorous head shake so he took the wise decision to shut up.

‘How the fuck did you think it was a good idea to tell anyone else about all of this? Do you realise the immense amount of shit we would be in if this leaked out?’

‘Oh, don’t get your knickers in a twist, Dagon,’ Bernael waved a hand dismissively and elbowed two Erics so that she could approach Dagon unencumbered.

Then she scooted up one of the desks while disrupting three piles of paperwork in the meantime.

‘Hope you weren’t awfully fond of those,’ she said and fished a cigarette pack from one of her many pockets. Half of the pockets had to be fake and there more for aesthetic purposes than anything else but that was not the issue here.

Her whole appearance screamed Hot Topic, if Hot Topic would have considered doing an autumn-winter homeless collection.

She tapped her cigarette a couple of times on the surface of the desk. Then she thought better of it and blew on one end for a couple of seconds to make sure it wasn’t completely covered in grime and then set the other end aflame with her index finger.

‘Want one?’ she asked and extended the pack towards Dagon.

They looked far fancier than what Dagon usually smoked, so, raging temper tantrum or not, they picked up three of them. Two were safely tucked behind each ear and one was lit in a similar fashion to Bernael’s own.

‘Okay, explain yourself, missy.’

‘Nah, you don’t get to be condescending with me, Dagon, sweet cheeks, not if you want my help on this.’

‘Your help? Whoever said I wanted your help?’

Bernael threw a very pointed look towards the army of Erics who did their best to avoid both of their gazes.

‘Okay, I’ll bite. Why would I want your help? I seemed to be doing just peachy before you turned up.’

‘Did you? Did you, really? How many times did you get to speak to Beelz so far? I mean after the DC pulled that honest to Satan dick move?’

‘I… well… I… you don’t get to talk about the Prince of Hell in that fashion!’

‘I get to talk about whoever I want in whatever fashion I want if I’m to get in on this.’

She somehow managed to blow smoke through a newly popped bubble gum balloon. It was awfully disconcerting.

‘I can code better than everyone in this shithole and Eric knows it. Maybe that’s why they thought you need my help. And, as I was saying, being a thorn in the DC’s side? Not a bad way to spend an afternoon.’

‘An afternoon?’

‘Eh, well, figure of speech. But how hard could it be? Satan only knows half of the jerks down in this joint don’t even know what a computer it.’

She was now trying to blow a smoke ring around the bubble and Dagon had to snap out of it before they took a morbid interest in the whole process.

‘What’s in it for you? Why do you care what happens to Beelzebub? When they gave them the boot no one as much as lifted a finger. You all just sat there and took it in strides, so why would you want to help now?’

‘We sat there and took it? You’re damn right we did. We’re demons – we’re masochistic, not suicidal, honey buns. No one opposes the Dark Council just like that. But, hacking their systems does seem like proper retribution. And it could be tons of fun.’

‘Eric said that they were the one to hack the system back when the telemarketers scheme happened.’

‘Eric is a lying shit.’

Most of them had the decency of looking guilty. One of them was even staring dejectedly at the floor. It was the one that had tried the awkward little wave earlier.

It was at this point that the Eric that had gone to make Dagon a coffee decided to make his appearance bearing said, for want of a better word, coffee.

‘Here you go, boss. It’s slightly less sludgy than usual, so at least there’s that,’ he commented, eyes on the cup in his hands, trying his hardest not to spill any of its contents even if it was near scalding.

He placed the cup on the nearest desk and then let out a confused ‘oh’ when he saw all of the other Erics.

Dagon took a sip, burned their tongue and was about to yell at one or more of the Erics when another face appeared in the door frame. A face that they most definitely didn’t want to see.

Baal, again.

It was like they were keeping tabs on them or something. Which was a very valid option, come to think about it. Ever since their last phone call with Beelzebub one of the members of the Dark Council made it their life mission to pop in every other day and probe around into the Archives. Which was what was making Eric’s stupid plan even harder to put into action.

‘Oh, what have we here,’ Baal commented, his stupid face painted in an even stupider smile.

Dagon couldn’t help but wonder how many punches were necessary to wipe it clean off. And then how many more would make the blasted fucker bearable to look at.

‘Seems like quite the gathering for some pointless scribbling of memos, or whatever it is you’re doing,’ he smiled at Dagon some more. ‘One might even say that this is highly irregular. That you might entertain the idea of a cou-’

‘Do you shistain mind?’ Bernael called out from behind two Erics and it took a while for Baal to notice her.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘That’s for me to know and for you to fuck right off since my private business is my private business. We were having a conversation here so…shoo?’ she waved her hand at him in a dismissing manner.

‘How dare you talk to me like that? I’ll have you know, I am still a member of -’

‘Yadda yadda. Take it up with Lucifer if you’re so vexed.’

‘Lucifer isn’t here as I’m sure you are more than aware.’

‘That’s rather the point, isn’t it, fart face? Now please just go. My eyes hurt just from looking at you.’

Baal threw the whole room a murderous look before he gave an exasperated sigh and turned on his heels to leave.

The silence only lasted for a couple of seconds and then most of the Erics nearly exploded in a fit of chattering insanity.

Dagon threw Bernael another look and then rolled their eyes.

‘Fine, I guess you can lurk about if you want. Come on, let’s get you a coffee.’

Bernael scowled at them and then swatted the raven’s beak for trying to nibble one of their many-coloured dreadlocks before shaking her head in disgust.

‘I wouldn’t be caught dead drinking that awful shite,’ Bernael scoffed and started to look for something in their shoulder bag. Apparently pleased with the findings they pulled out something that looked like a modern version of a thermos and was far to colourful to have been created in Hell.

‘I have my own, you see?’ she motioned them both towards the kitchen space and took Dagon’s cup from their hands without awaiting confirmation and threw the contents down in the sink.

Then she proceeded to pour half of the contents from her sealed cup into it and passed it to the other demon. The raven on her shoulder bristled up and started cawing but was soon appeased with a cup of coffee placed directly under its beak.

Dagon fought the urge to roll their eyes as they drank a sip. And then another and another and soon enough they finished the whole cup and were looking at Bernael in awe.

The younger-looking demon was still letting the raven take the odd sip out of her cup.

‘Where did you get this? It’s the best thing I ever drank.’

‘Oh, topside. One of my proudest works yet, too. Completely overpriced. And bound to give people diabetes. And also, just make them seem like snotty knobs most of the time,’ she said pointing at a green on white logo on her own cup that Dagon had previously missed.

But the coffee was amazing. And sweet, probably too sweet and probably not too caffeinated for their tastes, but after drinking sludge for 6000 years, there you had it.

They could see how working in close quarters with Bernael wasn’t such a drag after all.

What with the name calling of Baal and putting Eric in his place and the honest-to-Satan amazing coffee or whatever that was….Dagon was hooked.

‘Fine then. I guess you can string along. If you don’t start yapping about this to every other demon.’

‘That’s a nice vote of confidence right there.’

‘It is. Trust me.’

‘Okay then. Guess I’ll stay.’

‘Have you ever tried taking a nap?’

‘With the amount of coffee I’m drinking? You’ve got to be kidding m….’ she stopped mid-sentence as she noticed Dagon’s expression. ‘Nap. Sure. Something that was always on my to do list.’

‘Whyever did you lie about the telemarketers prank? Or, fail to tell the truth, at least.’

‘Oh, come on. We’re demons. That’s just what we do. Not to mention that way the wankers from DC would think to blame Eric instead of me if they ever presumed anything.’

‘Yeah, Eric who did jackshit and then bragged about it to me.’

‘I wouldn’t go so far. I mean, they helped. I needed someone to do the legwork. Strength in numbers,’ Bernael further commented. ‘They did help a lot with the whole deal. But they’re still lying pieces of shit at the end of the day.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am currently writing a fic for the 2020 MiniBang, if you'd like to give that a read - [A Mighty Flame Followeth A Tiny Spark](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25166653/chapters/60985312)


	29. Fight From The Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People in Heaven are trying to get their shit together and plan their next move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, thank you, [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose) for your excellent beta work.

‘Listen, we need to do something!’ Seraphiel was loudly screaming by the time Pravuil reached the backroom of the Archives.

‘Will you keep it down? I haven’t agreed for this to be our meeting point only to get found out and be accused of treason, you know?’ the Throne pressed a finger to the Seraph’s chest.

Seraphiel lowered her eyes and nodded in agreement.

There were a lot of stares all around and even some gasps.

None of the angels present had ever seen a mere Throne treat the head of the Seraphim like that.

Pravuil spun around on her heels and pointed the same finger at them.

They drew a step back.

‘What are you lot looking at?’

‘Prav, chill out,’ Raphael stepped forward from the ranks.

 _There was an impressive amount of angels around,_ Pravuil had to admit.

The backroom was filled to the brim with Cherubs, Seraphs, Dominions, Powers and Thrones.

There were more than sixty of them.

 _Sure, in the great scheme of things sixty wasn’t such an impressive number,_ but it did help to have the extra angels to do some of the legwork.

Pravuil had worked herself into a frenzy for the last couple of months, trying her hardest to do her job, deliver her by-now-expected reports for Michael and also snoop around trying to find out more about this – _as Zaphiel had put it_ – “dubious situation” that they were in. Add the sleeping sessions and her trying her best to reboot the whole system to the mix and you had a very, _very_ exhausted angel.

‘Good, now that we’re all here, let’s begin. I gather all of you have tried sleeping at least once?’

There were some unenthusiastic nods.

‘What did you think about that?’

‘It was horrible!’ one of the angels wailed.

‘Such vivid imagery. I don’t think I’ll ever try sleeping again!’ another angel announced loudly.

‘I had a mate. You know? Before. I made an inquiry about them. Signed all of the official forms and everything requesting to search for them in the Archives. I only saw them in the dreams but I know they were my mate and I know that they loved me.’

Pravuil groaned so loudly that the whole hubbub that had risen inside the room instantly drew to a halt.

‘What did I tell you, guys? No paper trail? Yes? _Good_. Harahel, go look the request slip up.’

Pravuil looked at the small and now very meek looking angel with fire in her eyes.

‘What is your name?’

‘Araquiel.’

‘Good. Do you have a reference number for that stupid request slip?’

The small angel nodded, eyes fixed on their shoes and extended a piece of paper from one of their coat pockets.

Pravuil snatched it from their hand and extended it to Harahel, jaw set tight and almost fuming.

‘Do your magic and fix this, please,’ she muttered through gritted teeth at Harahel.

He took the piece of paper and nodded, with a determined look on his face. It was, after all, his speciality. Making sure to keep certain things out of the Archives. Making sure they never ever saw the light of day.

‘Now, Araquiel, for the love of all that is Holy, never - and I mean _NEVER_ \- do anything like that ever again! We are supposed to be stealthy. I deliver reports on Michael’s desk on a daily basis, you all know that, right?’

A couple of nods.

‘How would it look to deliver a request like this? _Hmm_ , how would it make us look?’

They looked confused at one another for a couple of minutes.

‘That we are trying to ask questions about Before. That we are enticing rebellion. You don’t just ask questions about fallen angels, now do you?’

Ninety percent of the room gave a collective gasp.

‘ _Fallen_ angels?’

‘Yeah. Of course they’re fallen angels! What else do you think all of those angels you can remember only from dreams are?’

‘I just thought they were employed in a different department or –‘

‘Well, you thought wrong!’ Seraphiel cried out.

‘Did you…did you fill in a name for your mate in the request slip?

‘I can’t remember their name. I just remember they had long brown hair and they were a great deal tanner than me. And they had wonderful brown eyes.’

‘How touching.’

Pravuil scanned the room for dark skinned angels and her eyes landed on one that seemed to shift slightly under her intense gaze.

‘You, back there?’

‘Yes?’

‘Who are you?’

‘Baruchiel, ma’am…? I’m a Power.’

‘That’s nice for you.’

‘Baruchiel, meet Araquiel who is a…?’

‘Dominion. Over the Eart-‘

‘Not interested. Now, from now on you are each other’s mates if anyone asks. You have been for a long time and Araquiel here was just worried because they haven’t seen you in a while, yes?’

‘Why would we -?’

‘In case Harahel fails, alright? I don’t want even the vaguest idea about how angels are asking about their mates from Before the Fall to reach Michael’s ears if I can help it. I need time to solve this and none of you are helping,’ Pravuil huffed at the lot.

‘Pravie, sweet cheeks, I think you are under a lot of pressure right now and you should let me take this over,’ Seraphiel placed her hands on Pravuil’s shoulders, trying to be as soothing as possible and not at all condescending.

She felt Pravuil relax against her chest, all tension dropping from her shoulders.

‘Alright, darling, there you go, go sit down.’

Seraphiel threw her a loving smile before she turned to the other angels in the room and her eyes started shining, her face set in the most serious expression they had ever seen.

‘Now listen here you shits! This is a mission of utmost importance. We would have never talked to any of you were we insightful enough to realise you are not up for it. Michael is trying to execute or Fall angels left and right and you write cute memos and petitions? Well la-deeh-dah! Super clever of you all.’

The room had the decency to look as uncomfortable as angelically possible, safe for Raphael and Jophiel who looked rather bored, Zaphiel who was on the verge of intervening to defend the rest of the angels and Pravuil who was sitting down in one of the chairs and glared daggers at the lot.

‘This is a huge thing, are you aware of this? This needs to be uncovered and angels should pay for it. Do you know I lost my best friend during the Fall? Pravuil as well. Gabriel lost his better half, for fuck’s sake!’

‘Haha, get it? Because Gabe sucks, so he would be the shittier hal-‘ Raphael stopped mid-sentence when noticing her expression.

‘Raphael, for the sake of everything Holy just shut the fuck up!’

Jophiel threw him a pointed look.

‘Fine. You guys are no fun.’

‘As I was saying before Raphael so _courteously_ interrupted – this is a massive thing on a massive scale and it has to be dealt with. You all had mates. You all loved someone. And most of them are now gone. Ever wondered why that is? How could someone permit something like this? You are all supposed to be beings of love,’ she banged a fist on an open palm and the angels all stirred.

‘Some of you do have loved ones yet, still, I’ve never seen any of you lot holding hands. I’ve never seen anyone kiss each other. Nothing of the sort. Why is that?’

Two of the Powers shifted slightly closer together and nearly brushed hands.

‘You two over there, step closer.’

They looked at each other with frightened looks in their eyes and stepped closer with expressions that resembled those of lambs being led to slaughter.

‘Now what are your names, you two?’

‘I….my name’s Kalaziel and this is Karael.’

‘Lovely to meet the two of you.’

Then lowered their gazes.

‘Now please tell me how long have the two of you loved each other.’

They mumbled something hard to understand and then sat in silence for a while.

‘Come on, come on, out with it, there’s no judgement here.’

One of them mumbled some more.

‘I didn’t get that.’

‘Five thousand years.’

‘Five thousand years, now isn’t that bloody lovely!’ Seraphiel clapped her hands together and smiled widely at the lot of them.

‘And how come no one thought about you being a couple or call you up on it?’

‘Well, _you_ just did.’

‘That’s because I’m a fucking smart cookie. And you are being rather obvious for all of us who understand the concept of love.’

If anyone had been paying attention, they could have sworn they saw Zaphiel blush.

Unfortunately for the two of them Pravuil and Jophiel were paying quite a _lot_ of attention.

Pravuil wiggled her eyebrows at Jophiel, tilted her head towards the two of them respectively, mimicked a rather rude hand gesture, mouthed “ten pounds” and then shrugged.

Jophiel nodded and mouthed “we have a deal” right back at the Throne.

‘Well, it isn’t proper,’ Karael said.

‘Who says?’

‘Well...it is known.’

‘It is known, is it?’

A couple of nods.

‘Well, I don’t know it, so who is it known by, pray?’

‘Everybody, your Ladyship,’ one of the other angels ventured.

She fought back snapping 'Lordship' at the angel. She hated when they did that. 

‘Well it shouldn’t be. And we should be allowed to ask questions. And I was a fool once before for saying that we weren’t. I don’t want to make the same mistake twice.’

A couple of sharp intakes of breath were heard around the room but the angels looked at each other quizzically nonetheless.

‘You know I am right, you are just too scared to take action.’

Pravuil nodded at the bunch as gazes were cast towards her.

‘We have no one on the inside of the Principalities or the Virtues, but here you are – Seraphim, Cherubim, Powers, Dominions, Thrones, Archangels,’ she turned at last towards Raphael and Jophiel. ‘We have the chance to make a change. Why don’t we all take that chance, hmm?’

A couple of nods. And some mumbling that sounded something vaguely like “yeah”.

‘I couldn’t hear you people out there in the back, might saying it louder?’

‘Yes!’

‘ _Good_. So, what I need you people to do is go around your choirs and try convincing as many angels as you can find amenable to try sleeping. Don’t tell them about the dreams. Don’t tell them about loved ones and most definitely don’t tell them about how they should be asking questions if you care at all for your well being. Is that understood?’

‘Yes,’ was echoing loudly around the room, this time with a lot more verve.

‘ _Good_.’

She cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders.

‘This meeting never took place. The Backroom of the Archives doesn’t exist –‘

‘I’m pretty sure it does actually...’

She narrowed her eyes at the angel that commented on that.

‘Figure of speech. You do not know us. We have never met. We most definitely do not work together. None of the others must know about our plan until they get back some of their memories and actually plan to make a change. If they seem wary about it, if they seem uncertain, if they seem frightened, they are not to be further contacted. They must never learn about this. You are all here because we strongly believed that you could be trusted to commit to the cause. If any one of you doesn’t feel that way you are free to walk away now and have it done with. There is no pressure. We would never want to do what Michael does; that is the whole purpose of this. Free will and all of that. It would completely blow this operation over were news of this to ever reach Michael but I have complete confidence that, even if you leave, you will have the decency of not talking about what you saw and heard about here today. Am I right, about that?’

Everyone furiously nodded.

‘Good. So, whoever wants to leave is free to do so at any time. Nothing will happen to you.’

Three of the angels were being so obvious about wanting nothing to do with the whole thing that she called them forward immediately.

‘You lot. The door is right there.’

She cupped their hands one by one and then threw them her most honest and loving look.

‘Darlings, I must beg of you not to tell anyone else about this. Could you do that for me? Us? Please? This is a rather important thing. I understand that it scares you and that you don’t wish to proceed but please at least let us do it. Give us the opportunity, at least.’

They all acquiesced, being met with fond dark blue eyes and a motherly smile.

Then they scampered off and the other angels all breathed a silent sigh of relief that the Seraph seemed to hold her end of the bargain and remain true to her word.

Not of other angels seemed to do that nowadays. Or any day, for that matter.

Then they formed little groups and started chatting in between themselves.

Seraphiel discretely ventured towards the long table with the refreshments on it while thinking _'Honestly Zaphie, a tea spread? With cucumber sandwiches and everything? You soft angel, you.'_

She smiled at him and then directed her gaze towards Pravuil and nodded once.

Pravuil nodded back and left the room inconspicuously.

It was one thing to let the angels go and quite another to let them go with all of those memories of what they had witnessed still intact. _It was for their own good, really_ , she told herself if only to feel better about it.

She was very honest about not wanting to behave like Michael but you needed to think ahead when war was concerned and that was what it was. Plain and simple.

She had already made sure that the Archivist had the other people from the Archives fully informed about what was supposed to happen and ready to act on it and prevent the fallout. She had frankly expected a great deal more of them to bail out and was insanely relieved that they didn’t.

Zaphiel edged towards her, trying his best to seem to be chatting with as many angels as possible and even encouraging them to drink his awful tea so that it looked as innocent as anything.

When he was by her side, in one corner of the room next to the wide table, he placed a hand on her mid back and leaned in to whisper to her.

‘That was one stirring speech, my dear. I would have kept it slightly more…proper, but you have always had your way with stirring the troupes.’

‘What troupes, Zaphie,’ she murmured from behind a tea cup that she had no intention of drinking from. ‘We have no soldier angels. No one knows how to infiltrate the Principalities. It’s that wanker, Cerviel. He keeps them on his heel and he is a _BIG_ fan of Michael’s, the spineless git!’

‘No need to get worked up, my dear. You know that’s not good for you.’

‘Not good for m...Zaphie we are angels, nothing could happen to me, you _are_ aware?’

‘Well, it doesn’t seem right, it’s all I am saying.’

 _Doesn’t seem right indeed._ She knew there was a reason why she hadn’t told him about the plan to erase those angels’ memories. He would have probably stormed off and then thrown a fit at her.

‘I don’t know what else to do. You said you saw Aziraphale in your dream. But he is still very much alive. Very much one of us for all that Michael tries to paint him otherwise. I lost my best friend, sweetie. And it hurts so much.’

He looked away from her and she could see his lips tremble a little bit.

‘No no, not like that, never like that. You know how I feel about you even if I don’t say it often. This was different. I didn’t even know you at the time. You have no need to be jealous.’

‘Jealous?’ he said on a slightly louder tone than practically necessary.

The angels who were closest either didn’t hear them or had the good grace to pretend that they didn’t.

‘Yes darling.’

‘I’m not jealous.’

‘Well, you shouldn’t be. He was just my friend. I think I lost a lot of friends that day.’

It was true. The Seraphim were the smallest choir of angels out of the lot of them nowadays and that was - _fishy doesn’t even begin to describe it_.

‘I’m sorry, my dear. Tell me about your friend.’

‘He was bright and he was funny and he asked far too many questions for his own good.’

‘And he has fallen?’

‘Yes.’

‘That must be difficult for you.’

‘It is. I had no idea why I signed up for this in the first place but I plan to carry it out, no matter how it goes. I am willing to see it to the end.’

‘And I will be there by your side, dearest. Always.’

‘Thank you. ‘

One of the angels spitting the tea he had just sipped back into his cup threw them a weird look.

‘Well, Zaphiel, I would very much like to see you in my office later on to discuss that topic you were telling me about.’

The angel eyed them some more and then filled his plate with cucumber sandwiches and left.

‘I told you they were going to be a success,’ Zaphiel announced proudly. 

‘Oh, do shut up, you pompous tit, you,’ she snapped back at him but tried her best to fight back a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In order of appearance:  
> Araqiel – angel with dominion over the earth (Dominion)  
> Harahel – angel who oversees libraries (Throne)  
> Baruchiel – angel with power over strife (Power)  
> Kalaziel – angel who has the power to thwart demons (Power)  
> Karael – angel who has the power to thwart demons (Power)
> 
> Don't @me about the last two - I write them as I find them up on the Internets. You would not _believe_ the number of angels who's only job description is just thwarting demons.


	30. Hijack My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe is not in his happy place at the moment.  
> Are any of them, tho?  
> Probably Crowley and Aziraphale...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not happy with this chapter, not in the slightest. That's why it took a while as is, since more than half of it had been written for some time now. But it needs to happen so there you have it. You can yell at me in the comments about it. I promise better stuff next chapter.

Gabriel’s phone rang.

He realised it was ringing but could not convince himself to get up from where he was sprawled on the middle of the huge bed in the master bedroom.

He could hardly open his eyes.

Everything was spinning and his head hurt something terrible.

He groaned as the phone kept on ringing for what felt like forever.

He tried burying his head in a pillow and then tried pulling the rest of the pillows over his head.

It was to no avail. The phone continued ringing.

He got up from the bed after his third attempt and stumbled more than walked into the living room.

It took a while for him to find the blasted thing and an even longer while to unlock it.

‘Whassit?’

‘Good of you to finally answer, you wanker!’ was yelled at him from the speakers.

He groaned some more.

All sounds were something to be avoided at the moment and hearing Raphael so early in the morning did nothing for his general state of mind. Which was sad, angry and pissed out of his mind.

‘Whadya want?’

‘Joph I am telling you, I will beat that wanker up.’

‘Shut up Raph and stop acting like a baby,’ could be heard from the background.

‘Hey there, Gabriel. Wondered if we could meet up. Somewhere private. Michael wouldn’t go for two coincidental encounters.’

‘Mhm,’ he mumbled into the mouthpiece and massaged the bridge of his nose.

‘Gabriel?’

‘Mmm?’

‘Please sober up.’

‘Wha?’

‘You are clearly monumentally drunk. Try banishing the liquor away from your body.’

‘Mhm.’

He found out he could actually do that if he concentrated hard enough.

‘Oh that’s horrid!’

‘Yeah, the aftertaste is not the best.’

‘So. Secret meet up. Where do you want to go?’

‘We were thinking of this little pub in Covent Garden. It’s super crowded most of the time and it has two separate entrances. We could go early and wait for you there. You could come in from the other side of the road half an hour later.’

He fought his hardest not to groan.

This was reminding him of Beelzebub all over again.

‘Yeah, sure. Whatever. Text me the address.’

‘Are you being dumb on purpose or is this just your natural default?’ he could hear Raphael’s voice.

He felt like throwing the mobile at the nearest wall.

‘Write it down. I don’t want Joph’s phone to have any evidence of her conspiring with the likes of you.’

Gabriel let “the likes of you” sentiment drop but he could hear Jophiel grumbling in the background.

‘Raph, I swear to…Someone that I will properly mess you up someday. Gabriel. So, the address is – are you writing this down?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Good. So it’s Garrick street and King street. Right on the corner. You can’t miss it. Tomorrow. Noon.’

‘Right. Tuesday, twelve o’clock.’

‘Um…tomorrow’s Wednesday, Gabriel.’

_No. No, it couldn’t be._

_Oh fuck!_

Bee will skin him alive.

_Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

‘Yeah, course it is. That’s what I meant. Tomorrow. Noon. Gotcha.’

He pressed on his screen to end the call and then looked through his missed calls and messages to find quite a lot of them were from Jophiel. A couple from Raphael and two of them from Beelzebub.

He had exchanged phone numbers with the other two archangels when they last met, thinking that the Earthly means of communicating was far superior to the Heavenly issued phones.

He didn’t care about that at the moment, he figured as he pressed on the screen to listen to the messages that Beelzebub left for him.

_‘Guess you’re not in the mood today. Well, guess what, neither am I. I was going out for drinks anyway so it’s just as good that you never came anyway since you would have wasted a trip for nothing.’_

The message ended.

He cleared his throat and tried his best not to throw the phone at the wall some more.

He drew in a deep breath and listened to the next one.

_‘I’m fine to go on Thursday if you want. If not, it is considered not a complete dick move to tell me about this ahead so that I know how to organise my night. I have other people to shag too, you know? Can’t always be waiting for you. I am leaving the flat at 8 sharp. If you’re not there by then I will think you wanted to end this stupid thing going between us.’_

He listened it on repeat over and over until the sky turned from dark blue to orange tinted with vibrant purples.

Then he looked at the time stamp. It was two hours after the first message was recorded.

He tried calling back three times but never got an answer.

_Of course he wouldn’t get one._

He tried leaving a message instead

‘Bee? Bee, listen, I’m sorry! I got drunk and lost any notion of time. Does that usually happen? I think I had –‘ he spun around and started counting the bottles spread all around. ‘Mm, ten bottles of that horrid thing you drink. It says Talisker on the bottle. I am truly sorry. I didn’t know this would happen. Of course I want to see you on Thursday. I want to see you right now if I can,’ he said before his mind caught up to his words and he closed his mouth. ‘Anyway…bye.’

He got a call back in ten minutes. Minutes that he spent drilling a hole in his expensive carpet from all of the pacing that he was doing.

‘Hi, wank wings. I’m surprised you’re not dead. Well, discorporated. Ten you say?’ he could feel her smirk through the telephone line. ‘So it seems that I am good at tempting after all.’

‘Yes, terribly tempting.’

There was a moment of silence on the other end.

‘Yes, well… anyway, I’m up for it on Thursday. 8 o’clock. My place.’

‘Couldn’t we meet up earlier?’

‘Insatiable, are you?’

‘No, I meant for drinks or something.’

‘Huh. So I can make an alcoholic out of you, yet.’

‘You can do whatever you want to… ahem. Yes, that. You can do that.’

‘Fine. I need to educate you on the finer points of whisky drinking. Even if that stuff you drank is too expensive for my tastes. We could go to that pub we usually go to.’

‘That sounds great.’

‘Terrific. See you there. Five o clock. Thursday. Don’t blow me off or I swear on everything you hold dear that I will never answer your calls again.’

‘Shouldn’t it be on everything you hold dear?’

‘That would be rather pointless since I don’t ever hold anything dear.’

‘Ah, right.’

He cleared his throat.

‘See you Thursday, then.’

‘I hope you bring your A game, lover boy. You have to make some amends.’

‘Mhm.’

‘I might even need to tie you up.’

‘Mhm.’

‘We’ll just have to wait and see.’

‘Yes. Thursday. Five o’clock.’

‘See ya, wank wings.’

There was a sound of static on the other end.

_Um…yeah. So that was a thing._

He let himself fall back onto one of the sofas in the living room and found something prodding his back.

He turned around to look and found that it was yet another whisky bottle. Half full.

 _Eh, might as well_ , he thought as he opened the bottle and nearly drank all of its contents.

***

Jophiel was waiting patiently while reading a fashion magazine. She wore a short green dress that was complimenting her body and a leather jacket, coupled with a pair of boots that went just above her knees.

And she had an elaborate hairdo with a lot of braids involved.

Raphael was not so patient. He was sitting opposite her at the small café table in the back, in a very cramped and secluded spot that did little to calm his restlessness.

He usually liked large open spots and he liked a table in the middle of them so that he was sure he was the absolute centre of attention.

He dressed for it, that was for sure.

He sported an Alexander McQueen suit from the latest collection and Italian leather shoes that cost as much as six month’s rent for some people.

He was drumming his fingers on the table and tapping his foot irritably.

‘Where is that fucker, anyway? He was supposed to be here ten minutes ago.’

‘Just drop it, Raph.’

‘I don’t get it, Joph. How can you even stand that wanker, never mind actually like spending time with him?’

‘I spend time with you, don’t I?’

‘ _Oi_! Uncalled for.’

‘Then stop being a pain in the behind. Gabriel is alright. Most of the time. _Alright_. Sometimes. It’s just that Michael is a terrible influence on him.’

‘Excuses, excuses. How come she isn’t a terrible influence on me? Or _you_ , for that matter? Or Ari or Azrael or…nah, forget I said anything about Azrael. But the point still stands. She has her claws hooked in Sandy and Uriel and I don’t see you jumping in their defence.’

‘That’s because Sandalphon is a piece of shit and Uriel is plain evil. Peas in a pod, her and Michael. Even if Michael has more resources for her brilliant plans. And more brains. Gabriel is not like that.’

‘You can say that again. Dumb as a rock, more like,’ Raphael burst out laughing.

Jophiel put the magazine down and threw him an icy expression.

‘You know what I mean. And I don’t understand why you insisted on coming along if you’re just gonna act like a bratty child.’

‘And miss the opportunity to insult the fucker? Um, no _thank_ you.’

‘Well, he’s different. There's something else underneath. I can feel it. It's not very obvious, but it's there. I don’t know how to explain it but you know I see more than the other angels.’

Raphael nodded as he sipped his espresso. He did know. It wasn’t that she could see into people’s souls exactly but she did get a fair glimpse of what stuff they were made from. _Sort of like Anathema and reading auras_ , he would have said had he known who Anathema was or how she chose to spend her spare time. But it was a well known fact to all the angels that Jophiel could actually do a lot more than divinely inspire works of art. _After all_ , beauty did come for the inside, so it was her job as Angel of Beauty to perceive it.

It still bugged him that she considered Gabriel to be anything but an irredeemable cunt but he loved Jophiel so he trusted her judgement.

It was at this moment that Gabriel chose to make an appearance, hair out of place and tie slightly askew. He was missing his coat too, and, even if angels weren’t particularly prone to feeling the cold, he looked a bit out of place in just a suit jacket in weather like this.

Raphael gathered every ounce of self restraint available to him not to comment about the Archangel’s appearance.

Jophiel just got up and gave him a hug. And then straightened his tie and pointed at the empty seat.

He looked far worse for wear than they initially realised when they first laid eyes on him now that he was in close quarters and under a low hanging light that made the dark circles under his eyes stand out. Angels had no need of barbers or shaving in general since they could miracle their body to look exactly the way they liked but it seemed that Gabriel hadn’t bothered with that, judging by his three-day-old stubble. And were those wrinkles on his perfectly tailored suit?

 _Oh shit_ , Raphael thought. Joph wasn’t lying. Not that he had believed for a second that she was. It was just…he looked absolutely pitiful. And Raphael had no intention of ever feeling pity for his brother, not this eternity or the next.

‘Errand boy,’ he acknowledged him through gritted teeth.

Gabriel threw him a look for a second or two, apparently not even granting the obvious insult his time of day and then turned his gaze to Jophiel who had taken one of his hands into both of hers and was rubbing soothing circles with her thumb over his knuckles.

‘How are you feeling, hun?’ she spoke in no more then a whisper as if coaxing a frightened doe not addressing "Archangel fucking Gabriel" like he had the annoying habit to refer to himself.

‘OK. I think. What’s the…the news on Michael?’

‘No news. But we got some of the higher ups to side with us. We got Sery and Zaphiel and you already know about Pravuil but she has most of the Archive Department on her side too. And we have some Dominions and Powers too. We couldn’t get a hold of any Virtues or Principalities but that was to be expected, so no surprises there. They are all starting to remember.’

Gabriel nodded in acknowledgement even if his mind seemed like it was light years away.

‘So what I need you to do as well is try to sleep. We are all doing it. We started remembering things but the puzzle isn’t yet complete. I’m certain whatever it is Michael is planning has a lot to do with stuff from Before. And I could bet my hat that the Metatron’s in on it.’

Were it any other day, Gabriel would have pointed out that she wasn’t wearing a hat.

Since it was this day in particular he just nodded some more.

‘The plan is simple. We try to retrieve as many memories as possible and in the meantime we have Prav trying to get the data back.’

‘Data?’

‘Oh yeah, there’s apparently tons of missing files. She said that she dreamt of another angel showing her loads of angel files and Prav can’t find those for shit.’

‘That’s…not good.’

‘It isn’t. Gabriel, hun, please get yourself sorted out. I know this must be difficult for you but we need you if we plan on doing serious stuff Upstairs.’

‘I really don’t get why,’ Raphael commented as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair.

Gabriel paid him no mind and that alone drew a huge warning signal.

‘Whatever you guys say,’ he croaked.

‘Oh, for Heaven’s sake,’ Jophiel tsk-ed and placed both of her palms on his cheeks, instilling some of that inherent goodness and divine inspiration into him.

‘Do try your best. So as to fool Michael at any rate.’

Raphael wanted to chastise him. He really did. But he realised that this was the most human he had ever seen Gabriel act and it was all in all a bit too much. So he kept his mouth firmly shut. For now.

‘I really don’t get what I could possibly do to influence this plan of yours.’

‘Act the part. Sort stuff out down here and try to remember stuff from back then. And even if it’s painful to get through please try. And when Michael summons you back up act like the flash and annoying bastard I know you to be,’ Jophiel said but she had a warm and loving smile on her face.

That made him smile back a bit as well. She had always been good to him. Out of all the others he always felt like he could let his defences down around her and her alone. _Oh shit_. They weren’t alone. That fucker Raphael was here too.

He cleared his throat and took a hold of her wrists depositing her hands slowly but firmly on the table. Then he made a fuss about rearranging his tie.

‘OK. I can do that. Show up. Act all flashy.’

‘One of your stronger suits, after being a complete – _OW_!’ Raphael wailed and bent down to massage his shin.

‘I told you to shut it!’

Gabriel would have flashed him a satisfied smirk were it any other day. It wasn’t.

‘Gabriel, hun, please sort stuff out first,’ Jophiel addressed him with a soothing hand placed over his own but a very determined expression that clearly stated : “whatever it is you’ve got going on right now needs to stop because this is infinitely more important”.

But it didn’t feel more important.

For all he knew they could all just fuck right off – Raphael especially, but Michael a close second – and just leave him alone.

_If he hadn’t been able to organise and carry out the Great Plan what was even the point?_

He understood now, partly, that maybe it was for the best. That it was – like the traitor had put it – all ineffable.

_So if none of that had come to fruition what even was the point anymore?_

_Winning souls over. Meeting the yearly quota_ , his more managerial voice supplied.

 _Why?_ His voice that somehow had been deeply buried for millennia supplied. The voice that only started teasing him after Beelzebub had started being a constant in his life. He knew it was a dangerous voice. Angels didn’t question. Angels shouldn’t question. _But why?_ That was what had gotten Bee and the others cast down to begin with. _Why?_ He remembered Kokabiel and how she seemed like one of the most loving angels he had ever met. He had no knowledge of an actual angel called Kokabiel. Never once bumped into her in more than six thousand years. That was…

‘Could you ask Pravuil about someone? Since you say that some files are missing?’

‘Sure, hun.’

‘Ask her about Kokabiel.’

Jophiel’s mouth fell open.

_Fuck._

She knew about it and the rest of the angels in their little revolutionary group knew about it but how did Gabriel…

‘I see,’ he said after what felt like an eternity and still no words escaped Jophiel’s mouth.

_Not one demon, but two…_

Not that he knew that Kokabiel would become a demon at the time. _But still._

He had blamed Aziraphale for getting friendly with a demon and here he was getting tangled with two.

He would laugh at the immensity of it all were it any other day. But, again, it wasn’t.

‘Fine then. I’ll sort my stuff,’ he said as he got up from the table and snapped his fingers so that his clothes were pristine yet again.

He didn’t even look in Raphael’s direction but he threw Jophiel a curt smile and gathered his newly miracled coat from the backrest of the chair.

As soon as he was out of the coffee shop he dialled Bee’s number. _Sort your stuff out._

_Hah. As if._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am by no means implying that Gabriel is a nice angel. He isn't. I still can't forgive him for his remark to Aziraphale in episode 6.  
> I am just saying that Jophiel could sense that he loves someone and that at some point he was a bit more than what he is today and therefore thinks he is redeemable.


	31. See What A Fool I've Been

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more friendly angels and demons being friendly because I said so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I just want to say that I am not dead.
> 
> I just had a spot of "minor" writer's block, nothing big, you probably didn't even notice :P
> 
> No, but in all honesty, I am very very sorry about how long this took to post. I have been working on two other rather long WIPs one of which I had to post because it was for the mini-bang and therefore I would have disappointed my artist if I left it be for months on end and the other one which got a very enthusiastic response that got me all creative and whatnot. That, coupled with the very few people who give this fic the time of day, coupled with A LOT of brain weasels have made my writer's block for this piece the absolute fucking worst. It is a very poor excuse but it is all I have to offer in these trying times. That and an egg if you care for that sort of thing.
> 
> But I said I will finish it. And I will. I won't let my already written later chapters gather dust in my Bee folder and I will not let the people who still read this shite go without a proper ending.

Beelzebub looked at their phone debating whether to chuck it in the Thames and watch it sink, place it on a railway track and then buy some popcorn and watch it get squashed to smithereens or maybe just microwave the hell out of it.

They could not believe that they had left those voice messages.

They sounded needy. And frail. And unsure. And all of the other things that no Prince of Hell should be.

_What were they even thinking?_

They sounded like a love-sick teenager while that complete wanker didn’t even grace them the common courtesy of a text message.

_[You know what? I don’t much care about you as a general rule. So get fucked and don’t contact me again.]_

Or some such.

_Oh, Satan below, they were a mess._

It was the third day in a row when they got absolutely thrashed in a public park. Not that it mattered an awful lot.

They had had to snap several police officers away but they couldn’t be bothered by that either.

They were about to snap their fingers some more when they felt the wooden bench dip as someone sat down next to them. But when they turned around they let out a load groan instead.

The fussy angel was sitting next to them, brow furrowed while he worried his lower lip.

His fingers too couldn’t stay still as he was toying with that pretentious pocket watch of his.

_Why were all of them feathery fucks so fucking pretentious all the time?_

‘What?’ They nearly growled at him albeit on a slightly cracked voice that they could do little to mask.

_Fuck this!_

_Fuck Gabriel!_

_Fuck the fussy angel and the horse he rode in on!_

_Fuck pretty much everything._

‘Do I have a neon sign that says: “to be bothered by pretentious feathery fucks at all costs” on my forehead?’

‘You just looked… like you could use someone to talk to,’ Aziraphale refrained himself from saying “sad” at the exact last second.

They did.

_They could very much like to be talking to Dagon right about now._

‘Well, that’s not longer an option, izzz it?’

_Goddamn the stupid buzzing!_

‘I could lend an ear.’

They snorted and took another healthy swig out of the bottle. On second thoughts they pointed the bottle at the angel but he politely declined.

Probably had some bollocking standards or something.

‘Why are you even here.’

‘I guess I was just in the area, passing through. Cro …. Just in the area, yes.’

‘You can mention the bastard’s name. It’s not like I will catch fire or something. Doesn’t mean I like hearing it but, you know…’

Aziraphale only hummed in response.

_That was nice of him._

They stared ahead some more gathering the courage for what they were about to ask.

‘How do you do it?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘You and the other traitor, how do you make it work?’

‘Make it…’

‘The whole whatever it is you are doing. Being friends. Whatever. Forget I asked.’

So Aziraphale’s supposition had been correct. They did love Gabriel. And something must have happened or they wouldn’t be acting this way. It probably didn’t have anything to do with Hell since otherwise they would be more Lovecraftian menace and less last patron alone in a bar that cries to themselves in a corner.

‘Well, it did take us a long while.’

‘Yeah.’

‘I guess you just have to work at it. The both of you.’

Beelzebub snorted and took another swig of whisky.

‘The way I see it,’ he started again also pretending to stare into the distance instead of at the demon next to him on the park bench, ‘you don’t have a lot of stuff left to lose at the moment, either way. It’s not like something will actually happen to you is it?’

‘And how can you possibly know that?’

‘Well, nothing happened to the two of us, did it?’

‘Yeah but that’s just because you are… whatever…’

‘Yes, rather….’ Aziraphale realised he maybe should have refrained from uttering that particular train of thought and if Beelzebub would have been slightly less inebriated than they currently were that would have raised some red flags. But that was not the case.

‘Well, anyway. It’s not like he’s even answering his phone. So fuck it.’

‘Then something must have happened, surely. It is highly irregular for him to ever be away from that dratted device,’ Aziraphale fought back a shudder remembering how much Gabriel had insisted that he get one of those horrible contraptions that seem to turn themselves on without any other prompting at all hours of the night. All hours in general, come to think of it. So much as brush them with your sleeve and they lit up like a Christmas tree, were that Christmas tree a dull light blue. Not to mention that it clashed terribly with the style of the bookshop.

They had eventually given up sending any heavenly mobiles his way after the fifth one that “he must have misplaced somewhere, terribly sorry about that”.

Beelzebub groaned.

‘That’s exactly my point. Git has his phone with him all the time and can’t find the time of day to answer a simple phone call. Next time I see him I’m gonna rip one of his legs off and beat the shit out of him with it. Maybe leave one of those imprints of his posh-arse shoes on the middle of his goddamned forehead. Fucking wanker.’

‘While I do appreciate the sentiment, and trust me, I do,’ he said and Beelzebub started laughing out loud. ‘I don’t think that would be terribly productive in the long run. There is obviously something afoot – oh don’t look at me like that – I assure you it wasn’t intentional,’ he pouted while Beelzebub continued laughing louder and louder not seeming to be able to stop.

People were throwing them funny gazes until Aziraphale came to the conclusion that this was just about enough of making a tit out of himself in public by association so he waved a hand at the lot of too-curious-for-their-own-good passers-by and they all went back to minding their own business, like God intended. Or didn’t. Who even knew what She intended by this point anymore?

They seemed nearly hysterical and it took a while for them to settle down.

‘Things are “afoot” indeed,’ they raised their fingers mimicking mock air quotes while the whisky bottle was balanced perilously on a knee. ‘Raphael and Jophiel apparently have a couple of pictures with us that they are holding as a threat over our heads. Bunch of wankers that you all are.’

Aziraphale didn’t even pay any mind to their last statement, brow furrowed deep in thought as the realisation of what that could mean washed over him.

‘So… that’s how they knew about us…’

‘Whazzzat?’

‘Nothing, dear. I just realised something. I don’t know about Raphael but Jophiel has always been alright. I doubt they mean any harm by it.’

‘Oh, so it’s just your run-of-the-mill friendly type of blackmail, then. Good to know.’

Aziraphale frowned but let their quip unanswered. This was certainly not good. Secret pictures and secret meetings and angels fraternising with demons and the like. He did not give the irony of it all his time of day. But he knew this was not good. If Heaven and Hell were at it yet again planning their schemes then he and Crowley were certainly in danger. As were Beelzebub and Gabriel. And probably Raphael and Jophiel too, since he could not imagine any other scenario in which Jophiel would blackmail any angel, never mind Gabriel for whom she had a soft spot for some reason or other.

‘If anything else happens or you find yourself in danger, you can always give me a call,’ he said, almost regretting it instantly. Crowley would be furious. But what Crowley didn’t know couldn’t possibly hurt him. And, whether he liked it or not, he had a strong feeling that they were all in this together, unlikely allies by association just because their respective sides gave up on all of them. He did find it in himself to be just a bit of a bastard, though.

He had no idea why he made such a big distinction between the Archangel and the Prince of Hell but he just did. Both of them had tried killing him and Crowley and, even if by all rights he should feel even more angry towards them than Gabriel for trying to get rid of Crowley, he somehow got the impression that there were bigger forces at work. That it wasn't their decision to begin with. That maybe they even felt sorry about it despite all of their harsh words. And that there were some redeeming qualities to the demon in front of him, yet. Whereas the Archangel...

‘Not Gabriel. Just you,’ he said as he snapped his fingers and a small piece of paper with his phone number written down appeared on Beelzebub’s knee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, HolRose, you are a darling! 🥰🥰🥰


	32. Love of my life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the proposal no one wanted or cared about but it happened anyway :D

Aziraphale put his book down as it was nearly dusk and he thought he should get started on dinner. He’d better ask Crowley what he wanted, despite his habit of not eating much. It was just how things were supposed to be done. Of course more often than not the questions weren’t of the “what are you in the mood for?” but more of the “I was thinking of trying this, how does that sound?” to which Crowley would invariably answer with “sure thing, angel, whatever you want” variety. So the questions were more for propriety’s sake rather than anything else. Because Aziraphale was well aware that Crowley would never deny him anything. Which made the question that had been on his mind for the last couple of days rather problematic in the great scheme of things. He never wanted to force Crowley’s hand about anything. And yet…

He approached the solarium that Crowley had been adamant about building and actually hired some workers to do it instead of just miracling it into existence - which went to show how important this adition to their house was for Crowley - and he gasped when he reached the entrance.

The demon was sitting on the floor, his long legs spread before him and only covered in a pair of leggings that were tighter than his tightest of jeans, sporting a vest and not much else while his hair was done up in a messy bun.

Of course, this was his house as well so he might as well wander around in the nude if he wanted but fortunately never did, for otherwise Aziraphale feared that he would never get anything done. But it still was a huge shock to see him in this state of undress while also perfectly at ease, arms up to the elbow in a pot, obviously repotting some of his….plants, let’s just leave it at that. Aziraphale loved all of them but his green thumb was rather brown and he had no notion of any plant names, despite how lovely they all were.

Crowley was completely in his element, listening to something on his headphones and humming slightly to himself. Aziraphale recognised that as some bebop song or other that he was certain he had heard Crowley play before. He was also swaying slightly from side to side in tune with the music and having a very contented smile on his lips.

He hadn’t noticed Aziraphale so the angel stood there in the doorframe for a couple more minutes, drinking in the absolute sight that Crowley was. He only ever wanted to see him like this forever. Happy and peaceful and doing what he liked and here in his home. In their home. By his side where he could dote on him relentlessly.

It was only after he managed to peel his eyes off those long arms and delicate fingers that were caressing one of the leaves of the newly repotted plant that he noticed what Crowley was wearing on his feet. There weren’t many moments when Crowley acted delicately towards the plants, most of the time just screaming his lungs out to his heart’s content and Aziraphale’s chagrin, but whenever he potted or repotted them he would coo over the plants like a mother hen. He had told Aziraphale that he did that so that they would be properly shocked when the yelling began and therefore will try to get into shape faster, but Aziraphale knew better than that. He knew that Crowley provided all of the encouragement he was capable of in order to make sure they managed to acclimatise after such a big change. He never brought it up out loud because he knew that Crowley would dismiss him with a “pshhhh” and a wave of his hand but he knew. And Crowley knew that he knew. It was altogether adorable. As was Crowley’s choice of slippers.

Aziraphale had bought them on a whim because, in his mind they were the most unlike Crowley thing ever and he wanted to tease the demon after a particular conversation about how stylish tartan was when Crowley had teased him relentlessly. They were pink, fluffy and had bunny ears. He had tried to supress a smirk all the way home and had fought an internal battle with himself not to burst out laughing as Crowley opened the gift bag.

Crowley had snarled for a bit but when Aziraphale had offered to take the fake present away had clutched to it with both hands and then left the room, presumably to put them somewhere where they won’t get thrown out.

In between that time and now he had witnessed Crowley wearing them more than a dozen times.

The first time he had been so taken aback that he had openly stared for ten minutes flat at the fluffy pink monstrosities as Crowley pottered about in the kitchen fixing them breakfast without a care in the world.

‘You’re… you’re wearing those?’

‘Course I am, angel. You bought them for me.’

And that had been that. Or at least up until he noticed Crowley wearing them for the second time and couldn’t help but comment on it.

‘But, darling, they’re pink.’

‘Yeah, so? You’re wearing that black robe I got for you.’

‘Well, it’s tartan. And tartan’s s-’

‘Stylish, yeah yeah, I know. Wouldn’t dream of buying you anything else,’ Crowley has smiled at him and bent down to kiss the tip of his nose and that had been that too.

But just seeing him effortlessly wearing them around made his insides go all soft and his heart do a somersault.

He must have made a sound. He had to have as he felt like his heartbeat alone was ringing in his ears and could be heard across the room as he took everything in. Crowley turned around and took him in, his face splitting open in a wide smile. He took off his headphones and tried his best to clean his hands up with a rag before getting up and sauntering over.

He looked like the picture of perfect bliss and Aziraphale only wanted to see him like this forever. Of course they had their bad days, what with Crowley’s dreams and destructive thoughts that Aziraphale did his best to make go away even if he wasn’t always successful. But he would always try and he would always be there by his side no matter what. Take the good with the bad. Bask in the happiness of Crowley’s own or sit there and hold him and promise him it will all get better. There was no moment that he wanted to miss.

And this brought back his earlier thought that had been on his mind continuously, never letting him be. It was such a human thing to ponder. It had no meaning for any of them, and yet…

He desperately wanted it. It meant something for him. And he knew that Crowley would say yes because he never denied him anything and that had been the only thing that kept him from saying it. The only thing that made him ponder wether or not he would presume too much. Want too much. _Be_ too much.

But just seeing Crowley like this unravelled him completely.

_In sickness and in health._

Not that they ever got sick.

_For richer or poorer._

Crowley had reached him now and tried to grab ahold of one of his hands before realising his own were still, despite his earlier attempts, dirty with soil.

_For better, for worse._

Aziraphale smiled at him and interlocked their fingers.

_To love and to cherish._

Well, that went without saying, obviously. Had gone without saying for a long while now, even if he made a point out of telling Crowley everyday how much he cared for him. It was what he deserved, after all.

The last part… well… he didn’t even want to think about that but judging by what was apparently happening in both Heaven and Hell it was an idea that he had to keep in mind.

So maybe they could make the most of their time here on Earth.

‘Darling, I love you, you know that, right?’

‘I know angel, but I’m hella dirty right now and I don’t want to mess up your impeccable clothes.’

There was a hint of a tease there but not much as Crowley stared at him with his wide and lovely eyes, obviously unaware of where all of this was coming from.

Aziraphale felt truly blessed that Crowley never wore his sunglasses inside anymore, laying his soul bare for the angel to see. It felt like the most precious gift one could ask for. Other than Crowley loving him back, of course.

‘Doesn’t matter.’

Crowley made a weird noise at the back of his throat and tried to get his fingers away, to get himself properly cleaned up, only for Aziraphale to grab one of his wrists and still his hand completely.

‘I love you just as you are. Whether you have a bad day or have spent it all in the greenhouse. Whether you feel like saying it back or not. I love you when you’re grumpy in the mornings and snap at me for no reason at all. I love you when you hog the blankets. When you pout and leave off for the day. I love you when you drive too fast and make fun of my sartorial choices. I would go up until the ends of the world for you, Crowley.’

'Ngk… yeah, that. Same. I mean… yeah. What brought this on, angel?’

‘Just you, darling. Being you.’

Crowley was still looking confusedly at him so Aziraphale thought that the best course of action was just taking off his ring and placing it in Crowley’s unsuspecting palm.

Crowley looked at it for a while and then lifted his eyes to gaze at the angel who was all but beaming at him.

‘’S a nice ring,’ he commented, obviously still not getting it.

‘Crowley I am asking you to marry me.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HolRose - thank you so much for being a darling, as always!


	33. Hammer To Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We FINALLY get to find out more about that dratted feather everyone is going on about.  
> It's gonna be a huge shocker :)) JK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go, as ever, to my brilliant beta, [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose)

They had agreed to meet at five o’clock but Beelzebub didn’t necessarily see the point.

It had been bugging them since the previous night. And the discussion with the angel certainly hadn’t helped. If anything it just further proved that they could never have what they were looking for, despite them not even being entirely certain what that was to begin with. But Aziraphale had seemed so perfectly content with his life here on Earth. With his liaison with Crowley. With the possibility of spending the rest of their lives together.

_As for them? What did they get for a change?_

Some sordid little affair in a basement flat with mould on the walls.

_Rather fitting, right?_

_It’s not like they deserved any better, did they?_ They were Fallen. They had deliberately made a choice at some point even if they hardly remembered what that choice had been and now they were paying for it. _It was as simple as that._

 _To be honest_ , despite of the rage they had felt when that stupid sod hadn’t answered his phone and the relief they felt when he finally called back they weren’t in any mood to see him at the moment. Or of anything else really, especially not their usual activities. The thought alone made them feel small and meek and used and no matter how many times they had told themself that they were the one to initiate this whole deal they still couldn’t stop feeling like that.

_So what if they’d just spend the afternoon in bed alone instead?_

At least they had their feather and what little comfort that brought them.

It shone ever so slightly as they trailed the tips of their fingers over it.

***

Gabriel had not been able to sleep at all since his meeting with the other two Archangels. Instead he spent his time fretting in his apartment, never being able to stay in one room for more than ten minutes at a time.

One of the main reasons was Beelzebub, of course, and how different they had sounded last time they had spoken on the phone. Sure, the barbs and the insults were all there but the teasing tone was all but gone, being replaced with a certain detachment instead. He realised that did not bode well. _Not at all_. And especially not after his more than illuminating discussion with Jophiel because even he could plainly see now that she had been right. And to hurt or offend Bee in any way just seemed unfathomable.

The second reason... well... it was the dreams. Now he didn’t actually know if the drunken stupor had maybe made him imagine things or not but the last one had been particularly vivid. And it had given him a name.

***

_He still felt the warm palm clasped to his, the touch almost burning._

_‘Oh come on, don’t be a bore. They said we can visit every time we like.’_

_‘To create things. Not just to go on a stroll.’_

_‘Am I such terrible company then?’_

_‘I never said that,’ he tried to appease the other angel and even managed to open his eyes for a brief second before the brightness stung so bad that he had to immediately press them shut again. He caught a glimpse of short blonde locks and shining golden marks. He might have even imagined a pair of curious sky-blue eyes._

_‘Besides, you’ve yet to make anything of your own so you might as well.’_

_‘I don’t know if I should…’_

_‘Oh, come on!’ he felt a light squeeze on his fingers. ‘Make something. For me?’_

_And then he felt a soft brush of lips against his cheek and before he could properly react the hand holding his was gone. He didn’t know which loss to mourn more._

_And then there were movements and sounds and it seemed like they weren’t alone anymore._

_Maybe they hadn’t been alone at all but the feeling of that hand in his was so intoxicating it drowned out everything else._

_Now he could swear he could hear water running and… were those birds? He swore he could have heard something buzzing faintly by._

_A couple of cheery voices joined the fray._

_‘Kokabiel! Oi! You missed on the bets this morning. About who would manage to make the biggest nebulae.’_

_‘Beeeelie! You promised you’d come!’_

_‘It must have slipped my mind. And you do know size isn’t all that important in the grand scheme of things, right?'_

_‘Well the lads asked after you anyhow. You done here?’_

_‘I guess...’_

_And then Gabriel felt another press of lips on his cheek and a light caress._

_‘It seems I have to go. The troupes are getting rowdy. I swear it’s like taking care of angels who just now popped into existence. See you later, yes, Gabe?’_

_‘Yeah…’_

***

He knew that both Jophiel and Raphael thought it frightfully important that they all remembered stuff from before via dreams but he had absolutely no intention of being reminded that not only was he a complete failure now but he had been one before the Fall as well. Not being able to protect an angel he clearly cared about. Not to mention the fact that he had no idea how to feel about this angel seeing as he had at this point decided that he very much loved Bee. It felt nothing short of a betrayal.

But he’d get to see them and they’d talk it out and then everything would be alright. It would have to be.

They were supposed to meet each other at that horrid watering hole. But, then again, he would go to Hell and back again for them. Gabriel knew this in his heart of hearts even if he didn’t like admitting. Not out loud, at least. He had made peace with his inner torments about him fraternising with a demon maybe after the first night they spent together. Whatever Bee wanted, they would get out of him.

And after talking to Joph… well… that had been that.

He waited for more than half an hour before he got seriously concerned. They would always be just a little bit late, just to make sure they kept him on his toes, but half an hour was far too much.

He threw a wad of bills at the server even if he didn’t order anything more than a glass of water and was off, sprinting as fast as he could towards Bee’s place.

The door was locked but it wasn’t something that a quick angelic miracle couldn’t undo.

Judging by the fact that their flat was one-bedroom-one-everything, he spotted them as soon as he entered and breathed a sigh of relief.

They were laying down on the bed with their back turned to him and they were caressing something. He made his way to the bed as stealthily as possible and chanced a look.

But he must have made a noise because they turned towards him and shoved whatever it was they were holding in the oversized pocket of their hoodie.

‘The fuck are you doing here?’

‘I…’

‘If I don’t come to meet you it means I don’t want to see you. And the nerve to even consider -’

‘I thought something happened and -’

‘I really don’t care about this type of behaviour. This is my home and I can be left alone in my home if I so -’

‘You didn’t call or anything so I just assumed the worst and I -’

‘I am not your call girl or whatever the humans call them so if I don’t want to meet up then we don’t meet up and you bloody respect my decision and -’

‘I thought I’d lost you!’

By this point Gabriel was screaming on top of his lungs and Beelzebub’s voice had a sharp, almost frantic note to it, an octave higher than it needed to be.

‘What?’ they finally asked, nonplussed.

‘I thought something happened. Maybe some of the other Archangels. Or the Dark Council. I didn’t know what else to do but come here. But I see I’m not wanted so I’d better get a move on,’ he managed and even forced a smile that in all honesty looked more like a grimace.

‘No. Gabe. Wait.’

They tried to get into a sitting position and whatever they had hastily showed into their pocket fell out.

Gabriel’s eyes immediately fell on it.

And then he stared. And kept staring.

It was a pristine white feather. His mouth opened in shock and stayed like that for some long moments. He knew that feather. Or he knew where it came from, at least.

‘Where… um… where did you get that?’

They realised the trouble they were in as soon as they saw his gaze lock in on the offending item.

‘It’s mine! And you’re going to have to pry it out of my cold, dead hands!’

As to make a point they grabbed it with both hands and held it close to their heart, eyes already gaining a slightly reddish hue.

Gabriel looked at them some more and decided that breaking the news should be done sooner rather than later. This was completely unfair to them since it was more than obvious that he had cared about someone completely different all of those aeons ago. But needs must.

He drew a deep breath, closed his eyes and said:

‘It’s not yours, it’s mine. So how can you have that?'

‘It’s not yours! I’ve had it since the very beginning. Since the Fall. This is my feather! Proof that I was an angel once!’

He sighed some more and hated himself for what he was about to do. And then extended his wings.

Beelzebub gasped.

It was his. _Why did they have Gabriel’s feather? No. Why had they had it since the beginning?_

‘I… I thought this was mine,’ they said as they erupted in a cacophony of sobs. ‘It was the only thing that made me think I was an angel once. Now I don’t even have that.’

‘Of course you do! You possess another angel’s feather ever since the very beginning. You were most certainly stationed in Heaven. I still don’t get why you have it, though.’

Beelzebub thought long and hard but they couldn’t remember anything from Before.

So they got the usual headache they always got when they tried to remember.

They groaned and let themself melt on the bed.

Gabriel was by their side in seconds and gathered them in his arms. They felt safe there. They always had. _Always?_ This felt as old as time itself. _What was happening?_

‘Bee. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay, I promise.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘I just know, yes?’

‘But… but… how…’ they managed as they placed the feather next to his wing to stare at the complete picture. They even found the gap in his primaries that this particular one would have fit into like the last piece of a puzzle.

Gabriel only hugged them tighter and wrapped his wings around the both of them as Beelzebub buried one of their hands into them while the other was still firmly gripping the mystery feather.

‘Maybe we knew each other Before. Maybe we were…’ Beelzebub let the end of the sentence in the air but they both knew what they were suggesting.

Gabriel felt like biting the inside of his cheek for fear of blurting out something stupid about blonde and shiny angels. So he just gripped them even tighter and kissed their temple.

‘Maybe we were,’ he finally managed some eternities later. ‘But I don’t know. And I mean to find out.’

‘Hmm?’

‘I’m going up there and I am uncovering all of this mess once and for all.’

‘But you said that Michael -’

‘I don’t care. I am sick and tired of not remembering things. And this,’ he pointed at the feather, ‘is just the last drop. I should know what this is about. You, for one, _deserve_ to know. This has been too fucked up for far too long.’

‘Gabe, don’t be a total wanker. If Michael finds out what you’re planning then you’re in serious shit,’ Beelzebub shifted in his arms so that they could look at him, faces mere inches apart.

‘I have to do this. For you. I know you don't... _can’t_ feel the same way but I care about you. A lot. And you can mock me all you like but I am doing this. I said it’s all going to be okay. I’ll do my best to make it okay.’

He leaned forward and pressed their two foreheads together.

Beelzebub was far too taken aback to come up with any pertinent reaction before he felt one of his hands snake around the back of their knees as he picked them up and laid them down on the bed next to him before getting up.

He banished his wings with a snap of his fingers and Beelzebub could swear they hadn’t seen such a determined expression on his face before. _Not even during Armageddon._

‘I’ll be back as soon as I can. But I think you’ll have to be extra careful. Please, Bee. For me.’

He nodded at them instead of any goodbyes and was gone. He even extended them the courtesy of taking the back entrance without being told to do so.

‘I also care about you, you tit,’ Beelzebub mumbled, hands still firmly gripping the feather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry this takes forever. I have tons of the latter chapters already written but there are a lot of in-betweens that I have to get over first and they take so damn long :(((


End file.
